The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Stage of History
by GaggedCenobite
Summary: Complete. Cervantes picks up a hitchhiker, and ends up having to save the world from a crazed megalomaniac with a magically adhesive ball of garbage. TiraxNightmare, VoldoxIvy, CervantesxTaki, implied YunseongxMiNa. Rated for language and violence.
1. The Cypress Tree In The Courtyard

All right, we're finally going to see an attempt at Soul Calibur fanfiction from me. Here's hoping it turns out well; if I like the first couple chapters enough, I'll make it a longterm project.

You'll have to forgive me if people seem a bit OOC. I decided to call this "Slightly Alternate-Universe" due to the fact that if everybody stays completely in character, it's not nearly as easy to satire. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Calibur. Namco does. I wish I did, because then I'd be rich.

* * *

Chapter One: The Cypress Tree In The Courtyard

The _Adrian_ was many things, but a passenger ship was most certainly not one of them, Cervantes de Leon knew. It was a warship of the highest caliber, built to take on navies all over the world head-on and come out smelling like a rose, albeit a rose that smelt of rot and sepulchers. People all around the world quaked at the thought of the ghost ship and its equally terrifying captain, for they knew what the _Adrian_'s passage would mean: cities ravaged, homes burned, fortunes looted, women rustled, and cattle raped. Yes, Captain Cervantes was a pirate through and through, one who always enjoyed a good tankard of rum, a lusty barwench, and a rousing song, despite his minor handicap of being a walking corpse. That, and the lusty barwenches were in short order these days; the last time he'd really gotten some was with a sword, and that hadn't turned out well at all…that eye kept watching him the whole time…

"But best not to think of that," he said to himself, repressing the traumatic memories as he turned away from the mizzenmast and looked at the port city they were fast closing in on. Ah, another day, another slew of victims, and he'd come just a little closer to getting his sword back…but Cervantes wasn't really thinking about that right now. After all, it was three in the morning (he'd been taught by his father, the legendary Captain Chalupa de Leon, to always attack in the dead of night, so that you could catch the city off guard, and also laugh when the militia came rushing out in their pajamas), and they'd been sailing all day. His eyes felt strained from looking through his telescope, and his knees were absolutely killing him, probably because they were starting to decay. He'd have to get some fresh souls to re-form himself soon.

A ghostly deck mate approached him from behind, probably bringing some kind of news or requesting orders. Cervantes considered "aaaahhhrrr"-ing at him and telling him to go and keelhaul himself, but he couldn't let his stress get in the way of his job. There was work to be done on this little town, and he was just the salty dog for the task.

* * *

Yoshimitsu of the Manji Clan was many things: enigmatic, chivalrous, valiant, and wise amongst them. But predominantly, he was pretty embarrassed right now. He was currently sitting out on the docks of Venice, Italy, musing on how the hell he was going to get out of the city now that he'd done what he came there to do. A sigh escaped his lips as he stroked his chin with his wooden arm and mused on what had gone wrong.

The heist had gone off well enough; that much was a certainty. The Money Pit had been left strangely unguarded besides the usual assortment of traps, and those were nothing a technical wizard like Yoshimitsu couldn't handle. While he couldn't quite shake the feeling of uneasiness that the pit's legendary guardian had been simply hiding in the shadows and waiting for a chance to strike, he hadn't been accosted even when he left with four well-stuffed bags of gold (marked with a large, green dollar sign) over his shoulder. And so it was that Yoshimitsu had headed back to his ship here at the docks of Venice, thoroughly prepared to head back to his home base at Mt. Fuji and distribute the wealth to the poor…

….until he'd met Olcadan.

God damn that Olcadan straight to Hell. When he'd met the old man on the docks a couple hours ago, he'd seemed innocuous enough. How was Yoshimitsu to know he was a celebrity? Granted, the whole "large, snowy white owl head" thing should've tipped him off that at least a couple people might know who the guy was, but in a world where azure-armored mutants rampaged through entire cities with nothing but a sword and Olympian statues regularly came to life and attacked people, having the head of an owl wasn't THAT special. And so he hadn't exactly taken Olcadan seriously.

Seventeen "O RLY?" jokes later, the infuriated owl-man had sunk Yoshimitsu's yacht with a well-placed swipe from his axe, dove off the pier, and swum off into the sunset with triumph in his eye and a curse on his lips. Or beak, rather. And now the leader of the Manji clan was, to his utter chagrin, stranded in Venice with no way back to Mt. Fuji, four heavy sacks of loot to drag around, and no ships at the docks that he could buy passage on. At least there weren't any worries about the authorities coming after him, seeing as how he'd stolen property that technically didn't belong to anybody anymore, and besides, the theft had been undetected by the Venetians. Therefore, with a little while in which to create an itinerary, and no strict time limit (although he'd prefer to get back to the base soon), Yoshimitsu had made a critical decision.

He was going to have to hitchhike.

* * *

As the _Adrian_ sailed into the Venetian port, crashing headlong into the side of the pier, a whole horde of ghastly undead leapt from the deck onto the docks, bristling with weapons and dripping protoplasmic saliva from their jaws. Cervantes himself stood at the bow of the ship, and waved Nirvana and the Soul Edge about in the air in the heat of the moment. "Ahhhhrrrrr!" he roared in that certain twang only a pirate can accomplish. "Let Venice know true terror this eve! Plunder, my minions, and if anybody gets in your way…"

The Soul Edge glowed fiercely as Cervantes thrust it in front of him, stabbing at an invisible adversary.

"Then put them to the sword!"

A cheer went up from the revenants and ghouls, and they charged forth into the city, forcing their way into houses and places of business; several fires were already starting to burn in the city. The captain grinned, pleased with himself, and sheathed Soul Edge and Nirvana as he strode down the gangplank to the pier to watch the chaos his men were wreaking on Venice. Yes, truly, this was a good day, and after they'd gotten done carrying the loot and the prisoners back to the _Adrian_, he'd head down to the bar, absorb a couple souls into the sword, and down as much ale and rum as he could hold before his back teeth became afloat. With a little luck, the crew would leave behind a couple of the saucy tavern lasses for him to ogle and make generically sexist comments at; he'd ordered them to leave a couple behind, but mindless undead could never be trusted. Some said that mindless undead owed that quality to being mindless, but Cervantes subscribed to the notion that it was their inner method of expressing their rebellion towards the necromantic society that had not only made them ghouls in a social, outcast sense, but in a literal one as well, a corporeal prison from which their tortured souls could never escaped.

Or so the Madrid Journal Of Undeath said. And Cervantes was inclined to believe the experts on scientific matters.

He looked to the other end of the pier and noticed something most curious. There was an armored man quietly sitting in the lotus position against a railing. He looked like an oni, or some kind of undead, at first glance, but he was assuredly not one of the crew; Cervantes's men were wholly Spanish. The captain approached this stranger, and Soul Edge thrummed on his back with a warm glow. It'd seem this was no undead or demon, but a living man, albeit a most curious one. And logically, if every living man was terrified of Cervantes de Leon…then why was this one not running? Clearly, he was so ensconced in his meditations that he didn't realize what was going on around him. Well, the Terror of the High Seas would soon fix that. He stepped forward and addressed the bizarre Japanese man. "Ho, there, stranger! Cease your meditations and gaze upon greatness!"

There was no answer. Cervantes fumed.

"I said HO THERE! Respond, you scurvy cur, or feel the bittersweet taste of steel and despair, with a dash of paprika!"

His shouting apparently roused the man, whose head suddenly jerked upright. "Eh? Wha-huh? Sorry, I must've fallen asleep; what'd you say?"

This only served to further infuriate the captain. Who was this fool, who would DARE to deliberately doze during the descent of his death-dealing doom-dwellers? "Who are you, stranger?"

"Who am I?" responded the strange man…or WAS he, in fact, a man? Cervantes now noticed that his right arm seemed to be made entirely out of wood, and it appeared that his mask had been affixed completely to his skull, perhaps in a tragic carpentry accident. His voice, too, was bizarre; it sounded like he had the wisdom of many years while maintaining the vigor of youth. "Who are we all, indeed? Who are we other than souls in the wind?"

"What? What is this fallacy?" demanded Cervantes, his eyes wide with bewilderment.

"Fallacy? All is fallacy. Namu-amida-butsu." _What?_ This stranger's mind was on a completely different level from his! How could this be? Cervantes drew Nirvana and gestured with it threateningly. "Come now, you!" he demanded. "Why do you speak the way you do?"

The response he got absolutely blew his mind: "The cypress tree in the courtyard."

Having never heard of Buddhist koans, Cervantes was astonished. He had never been face to face with anything like this before. This man was strange…he was unnaturally calm in the face of terror such as the great Cervantes de Leon…he was clearly old and wise, but still as vigorous and powerful as a young man…he spoke in riddles that it would clearly take an intelligence beyond Cervantes's to comprehend…and he had been involved in a tragic carpentry accident.

Cervantes de Leon, who had been raised as devout a Catholic as any Spaniard was in his childhood, could come to only one jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring conclusion.

Clearly, this man was Jesus.

* * *

Under his mask-face-thing, Yoshimitsu smiled to himself. As one schooled in the ways of the Buddha, he had produced the proper koan for the proper question. Soon, yes, very soon, he would be on his way to Zen Master if he kept this up.

His train of thought was interrupted by a source of great amazement, though: the pirate captain in front of him had taken off his stylish hat, and was currently making a bow of obeisance and respect. Yoshimitsu was even more pleased now. His answer had been so good, he had actually enlightened this pirate! The Manji's resident Zen Master would be thrilled with him for this. He stood and placed a hand on his pupil's shoulder, intending to continue his ministrations. "Ahh, no need for such obeisances, Captain. I exist only to spread the knowledge of—"

"Say no more, Jesus!" interrupted his new acquaintance. "You need not justify your actions to humans such as us."

Yoshimitsu scratched his head, puzzled. What the hell was a Jesus? It took several seconds for his mind to process all the different possibilities, but finally, he hit on it. The Manji leader concluded, from the reverent manner in which the man was conducting himself, that it must be some form of high honorific title. His semi-clockwork heart was warmed at the unwarranted gratitude of the pirate, and he thrust a hand forward on the spur of the moment. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain…?"

"Cervantes de Leon!" boomed the menacing revenant as he heartily shook Yoshimitsu's hand. "Terror of the Seven Seas! As you can see, my crew and I are in the process of raiding this port town. I'm glad they passed you over in their haste to pillage the city; I can only guess at my embarrassment if I'd had to answer for my men attacking Jesus."

It certainly was an odd title.

"It is quite all right," assured the mechanized shogun. "I can take care of myself." He diverted the topic at hand, though, as he had his own interests to take care of. "So, Captain Cervantes…you have a ship, do you not?"

In response, Cervantes turned and gestured at the _Adrian_, semi-beached on the wreckage of the other end of the pier. "My ship, the _Adrian_. Fastest ship in all the seven seas, and powered by the winds of Hell itself! She's the pride and joy of my ghostly fleet."

"Well, it just so happens…" Yoshimitsu indicated the four sacks of gold next to his resting place on the pier, "…that I need some transportation across the sea. My ship was sunk a couple hours ago, to my great dismay, and I notice you've got a very nice ship…"

The captain caught the hint easily enough. "Ahhh," he said with a knowing glint in his sea-leathered eyes, "so you're in need of a ride, eh? Well, never fear, Jesus. I was raised a good Catholic before I turned to piracy, and I'd be glad to help you get to wherever it is you're going. I wouldn't even accept passengers otherwise, and if I did I'd charge them, but for you, I'll make an exception."

Yoshimitsu wasn't sure what Cervantes's religion had to do with anything, but hey, the man was offering a free ride. Who was he to refuse? "Well met, then!" he exclaimed, clapping the pirate on the shoulder again. "I thank you for your generosity, sir. Let us leave this place when your men are done, and sail for Mount Fuji, in the snowy mountains of Japan."

Wherever Japan was, Cervantes figured he could get there easily enough. "All right then! Let me help you with your things, and we'll set sail in the morning."

Indeed, the sails of the _Adrian_ billowed out at dawn the very next morning, and the ship sailed out of the harbor into the Atlantic Ocean. The directions Yoshimitsu had given Cervantes were a bit…unusual, he thought as he stood on the poop deck and looked over his map of the world…and they certain did go through a lot of places marked _HEAR YE, HEAR YE, HERE THERE BE MONSTERS_, but hey…he was Cervantes de Leon. The dread captain of the _Adrian_, wielder of the Soul Edge, and commander of the cursed legion.

And with Jesus on his side, nothing would stop him.

Nothing.

* * *

Well, that's all for Chapter One. Chapter Two will be up hopefully within a couple weeks. Hope you like it so far.


	2. Rhapsody In Azure

Hallelujah, a second chapter. I guess I'm officially committed now. Time to introduce some new characters.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Soul Calibur. Namco still has it. Working on fixing that. :)

* * *

Chapter Two: Rhapsody In Azure

"Son of a misbegotten whore," grumbled Maxi as he pushed the eight millionth branch out of his way and continued hurrying on his way. Every once in a while, he cast an anxious glance over his shoulder at unseen pursuers, then continued to shove through the undergrowth. "They're gaining on me," he muttered frantically, "they'll be here any second now…" With these cryptic words, he meticulously straightened his slicked-back hair and returned to the escape.

Things had not always been this way for Maxi. In fact, they'd been going pretty good back in India, where he'd been amassing ludicrous amounts of gold on his latest tour. _I never should've come back to Crete_, he berated himself. _I should've known they'd find me…_ A second later, he doubled over and gasped for breath for a good minute or so, then with a glance around to make sure he wasn't being overtaken, went back to running through the Cretan woods. _Well, Maxi, it's a fine bottle of hair gel you've gotten yourself into this time…guess this'll teach you never to steal other people's music…or at least not to get caught._

He didn't know it, but "they" were gaining on him faster than he knew.

* * *

"I see him. He's moving north, towards the seaport."

Tira (rhythm guitar and backing vocals), of the moderately-renowned melo-death metal band "Ostrheinsburg" (Gothenburg sound, with minor prog influences), leaped from the branch on which she was precariously balanced and caught onto the reaching limbs of yet another tree. With a nimble spring in her step, she vaulted up several more limbs and reached the top of the tree, both hawk-sharp eyes trained on Maxi's fleeing form. "If we circle around, we can close in on him and take him out before he even gets close to safety."

Tira's thoughts were psychically linked to a network that included the other three members of Ostrheinsburg, and so it was that they immediately reached band leader Nightmare (lead guitar and lead vocals) from his position inside the seaport…which happened to be exactly where Maxi was running. "Excellent…" the azure-armored virtuoso leered in his mind. For a sentient sword and an animated suit of armor, he had amazingly good musical talent, and while his composition was a bit weak, there was no denying he could shred some crazy breakdowns and guitar solos, so they generally trusted his judgment when it came to things like this. "We'll wait up here for him. You two circle around and catch him from the back when he comes into town and we attack from the front."

"Roger that." Tira went silent; apparently, she was focusing on chasing their target. Nightmare turned around and focused his attention on an amorphous, constantly-moving vortex of shards and armor; it was Charade (drums, and general tomfoolery), whose ever-silent eye peered up at him in an implacably constant gaze. Sometimes, in the dead of the morning, Nightmare used to find himself waking up in a cold sweat with the afterimages of that scarlet eye burning into his consciousness, and he would be overcome, shaking there in his bed, by the insidious, lingering certainty that the mute Charade knew something, something critical to the existence of the human race itself, that the rest of them most certainly did _not_.

Later on, he'd discovered it was just thalium poisoning from too much time playing shows in the Kunpaetku Shrine.

"I'M COMING UP ON THE OTHER SIDE OF HIM," came the psychic bellow of Astaroth (bass guitar and occasional harsh vocals when need be), with all the delicate grace of a spastic performing heart surgery with a chainsaw. Most people took one look at the violet-skinned, axe-swinging titan and assumed that he was slow and dumb…and they were absolutely right, he WAS slow and dumb, but the big lummox was good in a fight, and his vocals had been absolutely indispensable when he sang lead for their #1 hit song 'Squirm, Scream, Die, Exterminate, Worms'. "I'LL TRY TO PURSUE HIM INTO THE CITY AND CUT OFF HIS ESCAPE ROUTE AS YOU ATTACK."

Nightmare cringed, holding his grotesquely huge right hand ("You know what they say about guys with a giant hand", he'd always tell the groupies) to the side of his head in pain. "Must you always shout?"

"I'M NOT SHOUTING. STOP GIVING ME ORDERS, YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME."

Augh. Just once, could Astaroth act like a mature adult, instead of his actual state of being (specifically, a seven-year-old)? Nightmare had always wondered what it was that made the golem incessantly scream at the top of his lungs, regardless of the situation. He'd chalked it up to either pure, unmitigated lunacy or too much time next to the monitors and amplifiers during concerts, or perhaps a combination of the two. "All right, all right. Just get over here with Tira, and we'll pincer him as he comes in the city."

"ALL RIGHT THEN. IT WILL RAIN BLOOD TODAY."

With a moan, Nightmare rubbed his temples. He wasn't sure if the utter clichedness of everything Astaroth said (nay, roared) hurt him more or less than the sheer volume, and thinking about it just made his head hurt worse. He motioned to Charade to follow him out into the street, and the two headed to confront their prey. "Steal my goddamn riffs, will you Maxi…" snarled the azure knight as he punched his normal-sized left hand into the twisted, infernal tissue of his right palm.

A second later, he winced. "Ow…that really hurt."

* * *

It was a fine afternoon outside, and so Yoshimitsu found the deck of the _Adrian_ highly conducive to his meditations. He was seated in repose, propped up against the mainmast, and within his mind, the universe itself had gone from infinite to close, intimate, knowable if one used the right means. The sakura blossoms floated by him as kabuki drums clacked in the background and a lone Japanese flute trilled out a solemn aria…and as Yoshimitsu's mind slowly focused, the secrets of life itself became his---

"Where the hell did all these flowers come from?" demanded Cervantes as he waded through the knee-deep blanket of sakura petals on his ship's deck. "And get that band below decks; they charge by the hour and their timeslot for the day's up."

"Sorry," said the man with the flute, and the musicians headed into the cabin while Cervantes marched up to Yoshimitsu and returned to the subject at hand. "What ho, Jesus," he exhorted, "we're pulling into a port at Crete to fuel up on food and supplies. You want to come ashore?" It was evident by the lack of a deranged and unfocused look in the man's eyes that he was actually talking about going ashore to get supplies, not sacking the entire city and murdering everyone in it. And so, with a "hm" and a resolute nod of his head, Yoshimitsu agreed to participate. It was good to get out and do things once in a while, and perhaps he could acquire some funds for his noble cause back home.

"I shall do so," he stated with a scholarly tone, "for a snake in the grass is not always worth two in the eye."

Cervantes nodded, enthused. If he'd heard it from anybody else's mouth, he would've called them a "scurvy worm-eaten lollygagging whoreson bilge cur" and fed them to Soul Edge, but this was Jesus. The rules applied differently. "I'll drink to that!"

* * *

He'd made it! Maxi's exhausted lungs let out a deep sigh of relief as he stumbled into the small town. At least here, in civilization, there were people he could hide behind if Ostrheinsburg confronted him. Quickly, his eyeliner-rimmed eyes scanned the street, looking at the different buildings. Let's see…there was the pier at the end of the street, where a ship was just pulling in. The street itself was lined by an inn, a weapon shop, an armor shop, and a house.

"Wait a minute, what?" gaped Maxi in frustration. "What the hell kind of town is made up of an inn, two shops, and a house?"

"It's not even a house, it's the requisite tavern."

Maxi's blood ran cold at the voice. He'd been found. "Damn!"

Sure enough, Nightmare stepped out from the front door of the house-that-was-actually-a-tavern, with the male Soul Edge over his shoulder, a piercing glare in his eye, and a fairly good likeness of Sophitia Alexandra tattooed on his right bicep. He raised his deformed, monstrous hand and pointed it straight at the young man in the suede suit. "Maxi! You stole my music!"

"I did no such thing!" protested Maxi as he turned to his left and prepared to make a break for it…except that Charade had exited the inn (much to the relief of the innkeeper) and now blocked the other side of the street from him. He turned fully around now and made to run backwards…but the way was blocked once more, by Tira and Astaroth. "Nowhere to run," smirked the diminutive assassin as she ran a finger over the edge of her hoop-blade. Astaroth signified his agreement with a hearty "EXTERMINATE" as he produced a gigantic battle-axe.

"Really, I didn't…uh…I'm telling the truth!" Maxi stammered. He turned in a frantic circle, seeing all four members of Ostrheinsburg closing in. "I didn't steal your music! I just happened to write some songs that were exactly like the ones you had prepared…and the public liked it! You can't blame me for what the public likes!"

"Mainstream scum!" snarled Nightmare in derision. "You, who would pander to the capricious whims of the public, steal our music for that very purpose?"

A voice caused Nightmare's attention to turn away from Maxi. "Wait, what does that say about us?" Tira inquired. "If our songs proved to be just as mainstream-friendly as the stuff he normally writes—"

"More, actually", Maxi interjected, although he realized that probably wasn't helping his cause.

"Then doesn't that mean WE were pandering to the mainstream?" Tira finished. "That YOU were, Nightmare, when you wrote those songs?"

The azure knight spat on the ground, outraged. "Preposterous! These claims have no substance.."

A hush fell over the group. For a second, the only sound was the pulsating of Charade's eyeball, until Tira lowered her hoop and delivered the final, crushing blow, her eyes rimming with tears by now. "Nightmare, did you…did you _sell out?_"

That was the last straw. Nightmare shoved Maxi aside and roughly snatched up Tira by the front of her admittedly-scanty top, lifting her several feet off the ground and nearly exposing her to the world. "You would _DARE_ to accuse me of such a thing?" he roared as Tira kicked her legs futilely in the air. "The will of the Soul Edge itself drives me, woman; my motives would never be so impure as to make MONEY off the music I write! You insult me simply by implying that I---"

"WHERE THE HELL IS MAXI?" interrupted Astaroth. As Nightmare set Tira down, the four took a quick look around. "Goddammit," spat Nightmare, "he got away while we were distracted. This is all your fault, Tira."

"Look, I just don't want to end up like In Flames."

"Shut up, woman."

* * *

Maxi sprinted down the street, heading straight for the pier. The "Metallica Debate", as it was known to men of his nation, would only serve to distract them for a couple seconds before they realized Nightmare really did have their best interests in mind…in the meantime, he had to get out, and fast.

Aha! Up ahead, there was that ship pulling into the port. Sure, it was waving the Jolly Roger, and the men crewing it were glowing with spectral energy…but a desperate man will grab at any straw, and so it was that Maxi dashed up the pier, ensuring his hair was unmussed, and headed for the ship. He had to hope they'd give him a ride.

* * *

From the shadows next to the inn, a man in a white cloak peered out from under his hood at the events that were transpiring. He chuckled, a very unpleasant sound, as the end of his scythe tapped against the gravel.

"Perfect," gloated the stranger. "Everything is going precisely according to my cunning plan."

Said cunning plan was perfect, intricate and lacking in any flaws whatsoever. Most importantly, it was a carefully guarded secret, and nobody in the entire world knew what it entailed.

Including him.


	3. A Bit Of A Snag

Disclaimer: Namco owns Soul Calibur, not me. So it's THEM you should be mad at for making AI Setsuka unbeatable, not me.

* * *

Chapter Three: A Bit Of A Snag

"It shouldn't take too long," said Cervantes as he and Yoshimitsu walked down the gangplank towards the town's tavern (a rather seedy, rundown establishment that rejoiced in the exotic-intended, yet freakish-in-practice name of the _Bixing Nood_), "before we've got everything fuelled up and ready to go. I shouldn't have to do any soul-plundering, and it wouldn't do much good either, seeing as how there's not too many souls worth grabbing out here---"

WHAM. A white suede blur streaked out of the shanty town and crashed headlong into the two, sending everyone to the ground in a heap of chaos and fashion. There was general havoc for a couple seconds, until the three men extricated themselves and leaped to their feet, Cervantes and Yoshimitsu both drawing their weapons. "Who be ye?" demanded the pirate captain, gesturing a quarter-circle backwards threateningly.

"No time," panted Maxi. "Look…there's people after me. I need a ride on your ship. Please?"

"That's ridiculous!" Cervantes snorted, replacing his swords. "I don't pick up hitchhikers."

"You picked me up", Yoshimitsu pointed out. However, Cervantes chose to tactically ignore this piece of evidence, and the group remained at a stalemate. They were getting nowhere, and Maxi knew it as he frantically glanced over his shoulder (causing his jerry-curl to flip every which way). His voice was rough with exhaustion and stress as he begged "Look, man, you GOTTA. Or else they'll---"

A shout rang out from behind him. "There he is!" _Damn!_ Tira'd found him! And now she'd brought that whole horde of rejects with her. They were coming down the pier fast, with weapons drawn no less. "PLEEEEASE," he entreated, going down on both knees in front of Cervantes and Yoshimitsu, "they're coming after me for no reason! Isn't that unjust? Attacking an innocent man?"

"That's a lie!" roared Nightmare as he unsheathed his Soul Edge and waved it in the air. "This bastard isn't innocent at all!"

Maxi found himself lifted off his feet by the ends of his well-developed pecs, and staring into the grizzled face of Cervantes, who snarled at him, "A lie, is it? How DARE you lie in front of Jesus!"

Maxi squirmed to get out of Cervantes's grip, but it turned out he didn't have to, as Yoshimitsu put out a hand and signaled his friend to drop this newcomer, which he did (in a rather unnecessarily rough manner, Maxi thought). "I recognize him!" Yoshimitsu said. "You're Maxi, aren't you?"

"Yeah…" Maxi answered tentatively, not sure where this was leading. He certainly didn't expect the clap on the shoulder the wooden cyborg gave him.

"I'm your biggest fan!" declared Yoshimitsu. "You're the best musician around, hands down. That last album was utter genius!"

Nightmare was absolutely fuming.

"Well…thanks…" stammered Maxi. His tone was still a bit scared, but inwardly, he was beginning to rejoice. Perhaps now there was a chance he could get away…and that thought was only doubled when Yoshimitsu brought his katana back out and stepped up beside him, speaking in a firm tone to the members of Ostrheinsburg. "This man is now with us, strangers. It would behoove us all if you would leave him alone."

"WORM! I'LL CRUSH YOU FOR THAT," roared Astaroth from the back of the group, causing Nightmare's helmet to nearly crack. He shoved his way through his three comrades like a bull in a china shop and rushed forward, intending to take both Yoshimitsu and Maxi down with a mighty thwack of his axe, rather like the result of a flock of lambs picking a fight with a bulldozer. However, he made it about three steps before Maxi simply sidestepped the bumrush and tripped him, causing Astaroth to plummet not off the pier, but _through_ it, leaving a golem-shaped hole in the wooden planks. Cervantes and Yoshimitsu applauded Maxi as he took a bow.

"Thank you," he intoned. "Thankyouverymuch."

* * *

The aforementioned man in the white cloak watched from his perch on the crow's nest of the _Adrian_. "Excellent," he mused gleefully, "everything is going according to my cunning plan. The pieces have been placed in play. The wheels have been set in motion. The trap has been set. The tables have begun to turn. The sleeping giant has begun to awake. The truck have started to move. The proof is in the pudding. The stitch in time is saving nine. The Cowboys are beating the Redskins 12-9, but it's intercepted, he's at the fifty, the thirty, the ten, the five, TOUCHDOOOOOOOOOOOWN---"

A clatter of galloping hooves echoed over the town, and the man looked over in its direction. Unexpectedly, it was not a horde of Centaur bandits, it was a horseman, and he was heading directly for the pier.

"Excellent," the cloaked man said to himself as he gripped his scythe tightly. "And so a new challenger joins the arcade machine."

* * *

"What in the wide world of sports did you just do to Astaroth, you music-stealing bastard?" growled Nightmare, bringing the Soul Edge to bear as he prepared to charge Maxi.

"Hey, he did it all to himself," Maxi protested. "He was the one who charged and made me act in self-defense." He had to raise his voice a bit to drown out the roars of "WORMS" and "EXTERMINATE" that were emanating from the hole in the docks, but everybody was shouting by now anyway, including the anthromorphic lizard that had just ridden up on a horse and was attempting to rouse the attention of one of Ostrheinsburg's members…

Wait, _what?_

"Nightmare…" ventured Tira as she tapped on his non-deformed shoulder. Her response evoked a curt "What?" and a half-glare in her general direction. Inwardly, Tira winced. _Guess he's still mad at me_…. For now, she brushed it aside and pointed to the horse-riding lizardman. "I think he wants your attention."

With a snarl, Nightmare stormed over to the lizardman, who dismounted to meet him. His beady, slit-pupiled eyes peered out from behind a pair of rimless spectacles as introduced himself: "Mr. Nightmare? Aeon B. Calcos, attorney at law." He stuck out a clawed hand.

Somewhat bewilderedly, Nightmare shook their guest's hand. "Yes, I am he," he answered. "Feel free to clarify the meaning behind this visit, Mr. Calcos, we're in the midst of some rather delicate business here."

* * *

On the other side of the pier, Maxi watched as Nightmare turned to talk to the stranger, who'd apparently done some shopping at the Lizardmen's Wearhouse. This, if he was not thoroughly mistaken, was their chance. Astaroth was still trying to climb out of the water, and Tira, Charade, and Nightmare all had their attention turned elsewhere. "Yup," he whispered to his companions, "it's our chance."

"We're not going to stay and fight it out?" asked Cervantes.

"Hell no. We can't take them all."

"Speak for yourself, boy. I'm a PIRATE. There are five things I enjoy: fighting, drinking, wenching, plundering, and fighting. And I say if you, me, and Jesus strike now, we can take them."

Yoshimitsu felt that perhaps his input would be valuable. "The path without bloodshed," he interjected in his wisest wiseman voice possible, "is the only path in which no parties end up as bloody heaps on the floor."

There was a moment of silence, then both men nodded. "He's right," said Maxi.

"Of course he is," Cervantes retorted. "He's Jesus."

"Wait, what?"

"No time for that," Yoshimitsu said hastily. "We must vacate the premises. Up the gangplank, hurry."

* * *

Nightmare didn't even notice as the _Adrian_ sailed away; he was far too ensconced in what Mr. Calcos was telling him. "They said WHAT?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Nightmare," explained the lizardman, adjusting the lapels of his tastefully pinstriped Armani, "but the last album tanked, let's face it. So my clients at Schwarzwind Records are giving you an ultimatum. Either you do spectacularly at the big show at the Lakeside Colosseum, and go at least platinum on the live album from it, or…"

"Or they'll _what?_"

"Well, they'll have no choice but to take legal action against you for violating the record sales quota clause in your contracts."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Tira and Charade glanced at each other in horror (or at least as much horror as a sentient eyeball can muster), while Astaroth finally dragged himself out of the hole and lumbered back over to the group. "DAMN, I MUST'VE LOST THEM," he screamed. "WHO'S THE LIZARDMAN?"

"This is Mr. Calcos," said Nightmare in a dazed, half-dreaming tone of voice, like he couldn't believe what was happening to them. "He says we have to make the live album next week go platinum, or they're gonna sue us for, um…"

"Six million gold, Mr. Nightmare", said Mr. Calcos helpfully. "It seems that, in your failures, you've amassed quite the contract-breaking penalty."

Nightmare turned, utterly shattered. He fell to both his knees and let out a primal, horrified roar of angst, one that echoed all over Crete.

_**"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"**

* * *

_

I know, things don't look particularly bright for our second set of protagonists, but can they salvage their situation? We'll find out in upcoming chapters.

The next chapter is an interlude. It doesn't SEEM to have anything to do with the story, but trust me, it does. It'll be important later.

Big thanks to the reviewers. Feedback, positive or otherwise, is much appreciated.


	4. Interlude: Distant Happenings

And now, for the interlude. As I said last chapter, it doesn't tie into the immediate story, but both halves of it will have important longterm repercussions.

The first half is actually SERIOUS (I know, god forbid), only because it'll turn into what I anticipate will be the single most ludicrously goofy angle of the entire story. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: You should send all your thank-you emails for being able to make scantily clad female Soul of Voldo dancers to Namco, because they own Soul Calibur. Not me.

* * *

Interlude: Distant Happenings

Lightning split the night sky over the normally-tranquil Philippines, leaving the smell of ionized, burning oxygen wafting through the air. The rain was already pouring down over the tops of the palm trees, beating out a pounding staccato on all the fronds in the forest, and the wind was heartily battering said palms from left to right…but that was good, Talim knew, as she crept through the mud underneath the shadowy cover of the palms.

_The wind is my ally. I am as the wind, and the wind guides me._

Fifteen years old, some might say, was far too young to assume the most critical position in the entire village, but it was necessary, the elders had decided. As the village's last priestess of the wind, a heavy responsibility for all the villagers rested squarely on Talim's shoulders. It was her duty to protect them, to care for the needs for which they could not care, to shield them from the outside menaces. And so it was she found herself, her normally-white garb streaked with mud and palm fronds to camouflage her appearance in the night, crawling on her hands and knees through the forest with both eyes scanning the woods and both ears listening for the message of the wind.

_The wind shall shield me from my enemies, from those that would assail me._

Ten people were dead. Ten people to whom she had a responsibility, found strewn about like broken dolls, their faces telling of an unspeakable, murderous horror that the peaceful little village had never before had to deal with. At first, only a few had been found, but over the next couple days, the body count had piled to a horrifying ten, and it was decided that something would have to be done. Nobody had to ask Talim to do it…she took the responsibility upon herself. She'd tracked the beast (for no human being could've wreaked this kind of havoc) easily enough by the evil energy it radiated, all the way to this forest, and here she lay. Her precious tonfa, Syi Salika and Loka Luha, were clutched to her side like a security blanket, and despite her resolve and the heat of the Filipino night, she shivered.

_For the wind shall be with me, and I shall fear nothing_.

Because in spite of the mantra she continued to repeat in her head, or the commitment to the villagers she'd give her life for, Talim was afraid. She wouldn't admit it to herself, but she was absolutely terrified in this last couple seconds. The blades on her tonfa, muddied up to prevent them from flashing and giving away her presence, nonetheless twitched as the hulking form of the beast rounded the tree not more than six feet in front of her. Every nerve in her body screamed at the sight of the green scales, the spiked and ridged shoulders, and most of all, those horrible eyes. Whatever that thing was, she could tell from its crimson eyes there may have once been humanity in it…but no longer. They burned through the darkness like twin embers as she gently, deliberately arched her back to spring…

_And all who oppose me shall fall before the righteousness of the wind---_

She froze. What was she THINKING? Talim had never killed anything in her life, much less an intelligent being like this one. All the fancy wind mantras in the world couldn't motivate her to spring from the shadows and drive her blades into that thing's exposed back. _What did I think I was, some kind of ninja? Even if it IS a monster, I can't just…_

In that moment, as Talim hesitated, the being turned, and those horrible red eyes ignited as it picked up her scent, letting out an enraged roar.

"GRAAAOOWWWAOOOOWWWW!"

_Oh, god. I blew it._

The beast dove straight for her, and in the split second it took him—for the lightning lit up its horrible green features, and Talim could see it was clearly masculine—to get over to her, her training and willpower kicked in and somehow managed to drag her out of her terrified reverie, and she rolled straight to the side. Mud splattered up from the ground as the monster landed right where she'd been lying, raking both talons downward into the ground. It would've certainly been a fatal blow, but that didn't even register in Talim's mind at this point as she rolled backwards and came up on both feet, with Syi Salika and Loka Luha at the ready. "Stop right there," she warned, her shaking voice betraying any semblance of a cool exterior she tried to maintain. "I'm warning you, I don't want to do this, but if you come any closer…"

Lightning lit up the forest again, and in that moment, Talim knew there wasn't any hope of resolving this nonviolently, for in that split second, she caught a glimpse of a horrible grin on the beast's face, its dried and shriveled lips curled back to expose a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth. It let out another primal roar and dove straight at her again, but this time, she was ready. Talim rolled straight through her assailant's legs and turned as he landed, intending to slash at the exposed tendons of his legs and put him out of commission.

CLANG. _What the…_

She couldn't believe it. Somehow, a sword of pure, unadulterated evil energy had erupted from the beast's reptilian claws as it turned, and her tonfa simply crashed against it and held still, stalemated. Talim could swear she heard a chuckle from the monster before it shoved hard with the sword, pushing her off to the side against a tree. With its front facing her, she could now see what must be the source of that weaponry; a huge purple jewel glowed on its chest, and it was from this thing that the evil energy seemed to be emanating. _Well, at least now I've got a strategy…and range. _Or so she thought; the next thing she knew, the purple sword had whipped out and distorted in length, distending into a chain of some sort that sliced the air open with an ear-piercing whistle as it rocketed straight for her. _Move!_

Talim ducked a mere millisecond before the chain crashed into the tree she'd been in front of, nearly splitting it in half down the middle and wrapping around a jagged end of the now-splintered trunk. The beast pulled it tight, evidently intending to return his protoplasmic weapon to him, and Talim decided to take a chance. Leaping into the air and kicking off the trunk of another tree, she landed square on the taut chain and kept moving, not wanting to risk her balance by taking any time. There was almost no time for the monster to react as Talim dashed down the length of the chain and dove off the end directly onto his upper chest with all ninety pounds of her admittedly tiny frame. The sudden impact was enough to bring them both to the ground, and the two rolled, over and over, about twenty feet straight to the right, each jockeying for position as they tussled on the ground. The beast outweighed her by several hundred pounds, but Talim had the benefit of momentum and a lifetime of martial arts training with which to control it, and so the outcome of the contest was in question for a couple seconds, until they came to a halt at a familiar grass-lined precipice…with the monster on top.

Talim almost bit back a cynical laugh at their new surroundings. They'd rolled out of the forest and come straight to the edge of the hill that overlooked the village's main water supply, a river that fed out to the Pacific Ocean. She'd spent many a day on this very cliff training at katas, as recently as a week ago, and now she was going to die here, with her blood flowing out into the river she used to swim in during her spare time. _What are the odds_... The beast had foregone its energy sword in favor of using the jewel on its chest to form a wicked-looking dagger, and evidently had every intent of making her end as painful as possible. It raised the knife high, and Talim saw her admittedly short life flash before her eyes, a second before it was to end all too soon…

And a half-second before something within her snapped, and Loka Luha split the air, moving like the bolt of lightning that struck overhead, and came to rest with a mighty crunch in the jewel the monster wore on its chest. The dagger flickered and vanished from sight as the beast roared in pain, and Talim rammed Syi Salika into the other end of the spherical gem in response, punching straight through to the heart. She'd never seen anything die violently, but it was obvious to anybody the beast was in its death throes from the shrieking and thrashing; it collapsed down onto her as the color drained out from the jewel…and then its eyes, those horrible crimson eyes, faded away into nothingness, and everything was silent.

And Talim laughed.

It was just a little, tentative chuckle at first, but then it escalated into a gradual belly laugh, until she was full-on howling with laughs that were more like sobs as they racked her small frame, pinned under the demon's far-huger form. Her laughter simply would not subside, despite the tears pouring down her cheeks, as she squirmed out from under the first living creature she'd ever killed…murdered in close combat, no less…and stood. Her tonfa, somehow, no longer resided in the beast's heart; they'd found their way out of its chest and back into her belt loops while she wasn't watching. Talim forced herself up to a standing position, and looked down at the form of the beast, and the painful, sobbing laughter died in her throat. She was beginning to feel very, very queasy, and she suspected it wasn't from any normal causes. In fact, the insidious, twisted nature of the queasiness, the overall _wrongness_ that she felt from it, instantly revealed what was wrong…just as the purple brightness of the monster's jewel had faded away, whatever evil energy she'd just drained out of it was passing straight into her mind.

As the realization struck her, the full effect of the Soul Edge's energy chose to do the same, and Talim's world went blurry. She stumbled backwards, and the next thing she knew, she was plummeting through the air off the cliff. The last thing that went through her head was _This really must look ridiculous_, and then came the splash, and the cold that ensued with it.

_The wind is my ally. I am as the wind…and the wind…_

Darkness took her.

* * *

_Current Mood: Guilty :(_

_Currently Listening: Mitsurugi planning out the trip_

_Dear diary:_

_It's been a full two months since I renounced the Soul Edge, and yet this blackness continues to consume my very soul with the agony of a hemophiliac in a pit of brass thumbtacks. Every day, I loathe my existence, and wish that I could end it here, but I have a responsibility now. Not that anybody would miss me, no, none of them care enough about me, but it is my duty to atone for my awful and unforgiveable sins that I committed while I was Nightmare._

_None of them believe me. They all say "You're still Nightmare; you're a loose cannon." Only you understand me, diary. Even Mitsurugi doesn't understand me; he isn't secure enough in who he is to talk about his feelings. The last time I tried to talk to him about fashioning a divine being out of my societal experiences with others and the pain that still gnaws at my soul like Nidhogg dining on Yggdrasil flambé, he simply told me to "Shut up, you pansy-ass bishounen" and backhanded me, hard. It hurt. :(_

_But not as much, of course, as the incredible pain within my conscience. My god. I'm a monster. I don't deserve to live._

_I heard a Simple Plan song that sums up the way I feel on the radio the other day, and it goes something like---_

"Siegfried! Stop messing around and pay attention!"

Siegfried von Schtauffen's head snapped up as he looked toward his companion, causing his long, overly-Aryan blonde hair to flip in a variety of directions. "What?" he responded in a surly tone as his lower lip quivered. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"You're making an entry in your damned LiveJournal," corrected Heishiro Mitsurugi, widely referred to as the greatest samurai in all the land. He had a map spread out over the table of the tavern they'd been in for the past hour, and was marking out the stops they'd have to make. Siegfried was, after all, new to the mercenary business, and had much to learn before he could be a ronin of Mitsurugi's caliber. _Plus_, thought Mitsurugi to himself, _he has to get rid of that sniveling, whiny side of him. God, he's so emo. I don't see how anybody stands him._

However, it was now Mitsurugi's job to stand him, and so he pointed out the next place on their route. "See here?" he asked in his gruff, no-nonsense voice. "We're heading for London next. When we get there, Ms. Valentine has a job she wants us to do, and then we're skipping town and heading for India."

"London?" Siegfried burst into a flood of tears.

"What is it THIS time?" Mitsurugi demanded, pounding the hilt of his wakizashi on the table. His exhortation just barely got the knight to dry up and choke out a response.

"One time, when I was in London as Nightmare, I…I…" His lip quivered again.

"Go on, spit it out!"

"I…I had scones with my tea instead of crumpets, just to disrespect them! I don't know if I can go back and face the guilt of such an atrocity! Oh, god, I don't deserve to live!" Siegfried returned to his hysterical wailing.

Mitsurugi rested his forehead in his hands. _They don't pay me enough for this anymore.

* * *

_

Now we know why Necrid isn't in Soul Calibur III.

But what about Talim? Did she survive the fight and the fall from the cliff afterwards? And if she did, what effect will it have on her young mind?

And what will happen when Siegfried and Mitsurugi reach England…right about the time the _Adrian _and its hitchhikers do?

Find out in the next chapter (which will return to the light-hearted norm). Hope you enjoyed this one.


	5. Bring Out The Gimp

Well, good news. My blasted, disaster-prone computer is not fixed, no.

However, I now have a laptop. ------- Updates will now recommence.

Disclaimer: As you no doubt know by now, I don't own Soul Calibur, just a very, very nice Intel Notebook.

Disclaimer II: The song "Eagle Fly Free" was written by Helloween, and is on their Keeper of the Seven Keys double album. It really is a fun song by a good band, and my sincerest apologies to them for ridiculing it unmercifully in this chapter.

* * *

Chapter Five: Bring Out The Gimp

"Why, exactly," asked Maxi, "are we stopping in England? It's nowhere near our destination, and I'd say it's pretty far out of the way." He rubbed at the cabin mirror with his white suede sleeve and peered at his hair with the eye of a mechanic sizing up an engine.

"Because I'm the captain, and I say where the ship goes," answered Cervantes gruffly. He didn't really feel like justifying himself to the dandy anymore, but an otherwise-expressionless glance from Yoshimitsu prompted him to continue. "All right, all right. I have to go see my daughter; tomorrow night is the second Friday of the month, after all."

"I didn't know you had a daughter," Yoshimitsu commented.

"Neither did I, until a couple months ago. See, pillaging and fighting gets old after a while if there wasn't any wenching, and one night, you see, I'd finally had it with all the boredom…"

"Ah, I gotcha," Maxi put in, running a massive comb through his hair. "Details!"

"Not in front of Jesus, you freak. Anyway, a while back, I think it was around January, this lizardman in a suit comes up to me and tells me I've caused my daughter 'severe emotional distress' by not being there for the first three decades of her life. And I said 'I didn't even know I had a daughter' and he said 'That's no excuse.'"

Maxi finished shoveling the hair gel out of his jar and ran both hands through his hair, giving it the constitution of jello. "So what happened?"

"I have to pay child support every month now," growled the pirate captain. "Two thousand gold on the second Friday of every month, which she doesn't even need because her foster father kicked it early and left his fortune to her. And then she goes all womanly on me, talking about feelings and running away from her and how distant I am. I'm a pirate! I'm supposed to be out on the sea! Of course I'm distant!"

Yoshimitsu's mind briefly ranged through the things he could respond with, from a supportive "Namuuuu" to a lecture on responsibility, but he settled for nodding sagely. "You're doing the right thing," he said. "That's very responsible of you, and I too think we should stop so you can pay, then."

"All right," Maxi reluctantly acquiesced. "As long as this doesn't turn into some kind of whacked-out drama."

* * *

_People are in big confusion  
they don't like their constitutions  
everyday they draw conclusions  
and they're still prepared for war _

Some can say what's ineffective  
some make up themselves attractive  
build up things they call protective  
well your life seems quite bizarre

Bridge:  
In the sky a mighty eagle  
doesn't care 'bout what's illegal  
on its wings the rainbow's light  
it's flying to eternity

Chorus:  
Eagle fly free  
let people see  
just make it your own way  
leave time behind  
follow the sign  
together we'll fly someday

Hey, we think so supersonic  
and we make our bombs atomic  
or the better quite neutronic  
but the poor don't see a dime

Nowadays the air's polluted  
ancient people persecuted  
that's what mankind contributed  
to create a better time

Bridge:  
In the sky a mighty eagle  
doesn't care 'bout what's illegal  
on its wings the rainbow's light  
it's flying to eternity

Chorus:  
Eagle fly free  
let people see  
just make it your own way  
leave time behind  
follow the sign  
together we'll fly someday

"Nightmare", said Tira as she dropped the piece of paper and sighed, "this is the dumbest goddamn song I have ever seen."

"IT SUCKS. WORMS," agreed Astaroth, and Charade added in a supportive pulse of its eyeball. It would seem that all of Ostrheinsburg was against their leader on this one.

Nightmare's shoulders sagged. "Come on, it's not that bad, is it?"

"It's actually worse than that one time you got us a corporate sponsor."

* * *

_"Hey kids!"_

_"Nightmare has an eye on his shoulder…"_

_"Drown in the cesspool of DAAAARKNESS!"_

_"SO CAN HE SEE WHY KIDS LOVE CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH?"_

_"Cinnamon! Sugar! Come unto me!"

* * *

_

"Oh, come on," said Nightmare, "now you're bringing up old stuff again?"

"All right, maybe it's a little unfair." Tira pursed her lips as she looked over the sheet again. "Let's face it, this stuff is all we've got to go on right now. We need to put together a whole album's worth of material and blow the roof off the place at the Lakeside Colosseum."

"THE LAKESIDE COLOSSEUM DOESN'T HAVE A ROOF---"

"Shut up, Astaroth."

Right about that time, someone strode into their midst. It seemed that the four were being paid a visit by the esteemed Mr. Aeon B. Calcos, Attorney at Law. "It had occurred to me," said the bescaled gentleman as he wiped his spectacles on the feathers of his war-headdress, "that I should perhaps inform you gentlemen and lady of the deadline. You have exactly two weeks until the show at the Colosseum, just so you know."

"Thanks, Mr. Calcos," offered Tira as she restrained the seething Nightmare, who was clawing for the lizardman's throat. "We'll have everything ready by then."

"For your sake," answered Mr. Calcos, "I hope so. Now, if you don't mind, I have a racquetball tournament to win."

* * *

The Valentine Mansion, sadly, had no motifs whatsoever of its namesake holiday. Rather, those who were fond of pink hearts and cupids would have to settle for gothic arches and melancholy parapets, and the rest would have to look up exactly what the hell a parapet is in ye olde encycolopaedium. Maxi couldn't help but feel that the place was cramping his style a bit, cutting in on his groove, CLUBBERIN HIS REPETENDA IF YA WILL, as he and his two compatriots stood at the front door.

Nevertheless, he suppressed the shivers that the mansion gave him as Cervantes pounded on the door. "Isabella Aloysius Valentine!" shouted the revenant. "Open up, you scurvy wench, and take your goddamned blood money!"

The door slid open just a couple inches, and a pair of icy blue eyes peered through. "You're so uncouth," came a frosty sneer from inside the mansion. "Daddy, just once could you stop by and drop off your payments without embarrassing me in front of the whole town?"

"Open up, I say!" Cervantes shouted, extra loud so the whole town could hear. "By Jove and Jehoshaphat, I didn't give the salty dog to your old lady for three and a half hours straight just so my own daughter could act a recalcitrant knavess in front of everybody!"

The door swung open, and there, in all of her surly, lip-pouting glory, full of anger and menstrual uproar, was the Countess Isabella "Ivy" Valentine. Maxi couldn't help but gape at her figure, especially given what she was wearing, which he could only describe as "Mistress Zsa Zsa crossed with George Washington". Her expression, however, was a different story; it was stuck in a continual snarl of sullen disaffection with the world, with society, and especially with her father.

"Fine," Ivy grumbled. "Come in, and bring whoever these two are with you; just get the hell off the porch so the neighbors don't see you."

"That's more like it!" declared her father as he tramped through the doorway. "Let it never be said that Cervantes de Leon raised a brood of inhospitable cabbage-hawkers!"

"Cabbage-hawkers?" asked Yoshimitsu.

Ivy turned with a huff as they reached the foyer, staring at the pirate with a furious glare. "I don't see why not, seeing as how you DIDN'T raise me. Not that something like that stops you from coming back into my life all of a sudden and expecting a relationship."

"Cabbage-hawkers?"

"What?" roared Cervantes. "Wastrel! You were the one who sent a lizard to track me down and insist on child support, and you say I suddenly came back into YOUR life?"

"Well, don't you think some monetary compensation is the least you can do for my shattered childhood?"

"Cabbage-hawkers?"

"WHAT shattered childhood? You got raised by high-class aristocrats, and you have a 'shattered childhood' now?"

"You just don't understand me, Daddy," gasped Ivy with a pained sigh, "and you never will." With that, she turned and headed into the drawing room. Cervantes followed, muttering exotic pirate epithets under his breath.

"Cabbage-hawkers?" Yoshimitsu asked again.

"I dunno man," answered Maxi. "Maybe it's a pirate thing."

* * *

It was easy to see that neither of the two strangers was a native Londoner. The fact that one of them was clearly Japanese and the other's teeth were in decent shape might've contributed to that, but really, it didn't matter, as long as it was thoroughly obvious that these two were not from around town.

They'd just arrived about ten minutes ago, via a ship from deeper into Europe. After a minute or so of asking around, it'd been easy enough to pinpoint the location of the Valentine Mansion, and so here they were, making their way through the streets of London with relatively little opposition. Certainly, a couple street thugs had laid eyes on the pair, but one was obviously a samurai (they could tell by the swords at his waist, the one arm out of the sleeve, and the kabuki music that played in the background wherever he walked), and the other had the biggest damn Zweihander they'd ever seen. Nobody was going to accost these men.

"Stop your sniveling," demanded Mitsurugi. "You're making us look wussy."

"But…but…but their eyes!" Siegfried sobbed pitifully. "Everybody's eyes are a damning fire of judgment upon my very soul! I can't look at any of them without seeing the sins of the past staring out at me, condemning me for my actions as Nightmare and—"

Mitsurugi turned and unsheathed Shishi-Oh. "You want to know something important, Siegfried?"

"Y-yeah."

"If you bitch and whine anymore before we get to the Valentine Mansion, I'm going to stick this thing through your eye."

The rest of the trip there was uneventful, and quiet.

* * *

"You WHAT?" bellowed Cervantes.

Ivy was unyielding, there on the couch across the room from the three. She folded her arms and set her jaw. "You heard me, Daddy."

The _Adrian_'s captain seemed mad enough to spit nails. "You went and got married? And didn't tell me? Or invite me? Or ANYTHING?"

"Well, he's not exactly my husband," Ivy dodged. "More along the lines of, um…a cohabiting slave."

There was a long, and very, very awkward silence, before Cervantes shook his head to clear it and asked, "Say what now?"

"I don't need to justify myself to you,' she responded tartly. "My choices are my own, seeing as how you've relinquished any right you may have had to parenting me, and heaven knows what happened to poor Mum."

"Well, that Alexandra girl shattered half of her, and some musician fellow has the other half."

"Come again?"

"Nothing. Anyway, this is preposterous!"

"You're always like that, Daddy," snipped Ivy. "Always judging people like that before you even know them. He's wonderful, and loves me for who I am, and he's just as rich, so I'm in a relationship out of my class."

"Is that IT?" Cervantes demanded.

"He also has a six-inch tongue and can hold his breath for two minutes."

"Ahhh, now there's the kind of man I can respect. Maybe there's more to this swaggering knave than I gave him credit for," mused the pirate, who was himself quite the cunning linguist. "Is he around?"

In response, his daughter stood and knocked on an adjacent door. "Oh, slaviekins," she called, "my dad wants to meet you…"

Cervantes strode to the door beside her, and not wanting to be left out, Maxi and Yoshimitsu joined him there. The door creaked open slowly, and revealed a tall man in a bodysuit of leather straps and spikes. "Ah, so you must be the man Isabella was talking about—" began Cervantes, and then stopped very abruptly as he got a view of the man's face. He was gagged and blindfolded by an intricate strap-based mask, and what little could be seen of his grayed flesh (mostly from his head and arms) would seem to indicate that he spent barely any time in the sun. A pair of muscle-knotted arms each culminated in a hand laden with spidery fingers, the kind that looked like they were suited more for plucking organs from corpses than any kind of matrimonial bliss.

"_SSSSSSSSSSSSSS_", hissed Voldo in greeting, and Cervantes fainted on the spot.

* * *

_MEANWHILE…._

"Excellent," mused the man in the white cloak. "A thousand more pawns have entered the chessboard, and now they stand at a nexus, the fall from which they will not survive if not for the strategic pincer formation of eternal suffering."

He cackled to himself quietly, rejoicing in the brilliance of his cunning plan, until the door to the clock tower slammed and an obviously Caucasian woman in a kimono and hairpins bounded into the room next to him. She twirled a bright red parasol, and her eyes were accented with geisha makeup, as if they could somehow appear more Asian that way. The man in the cloak clutched his scythe to him and sighed as he gazed at the approaching figure, knowing that the first burst from her could come at any second now…

"Ohayo kawasaki yakuza, Zassy-chan!" shouted the woman, her face about as close to a as it was humanly possible to get. "Is the cunning plan going all kamikaze desu ka, ne?

"Dammit, I hate you, woman," he muttered under his breath.

"Nani?"

"Nothing. Hello, Setsuka."

Even the mention of her name sent her into a flurry of energy and attention deficit disorder. "Awwwww! You're so sweet, Zassy-chan! So kawaii, mitsubishi naginata desu!"

"First and foremost," began the man, drawing himself up to his full imposing height and brandishing his scythe, "my name is not Zassy-chan, you blasted wapanese whore. It is Zasalamel. ZASALAMEL."

"Okies, Zassy-chan!" agreed Setsuka amiably. "Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto."

"And SECONDLY, you are white. Caucasian. From Western Europe. Regardless of the way you dress, and the ridiculous mishmash of random Japanese words you insert in your speech, YOU ARE NOT JAPANESE. You will NEVER be Japanese. The only reason I took you on as my henchman was because I figured you were dumb enough to be easily seduceable when I was bored, but you can't even do THAT right. I shouldn't even be letting you NEAR the cunning plan, because you'll only screw it up seeing as how that's all you ever do to ANYTHING." He took a breath, and fired off a final parting shot. "And your hair looks ridiculous."

There was a long silence. Zasalamel breathed a sigh of relief; perhaps he'd finally gotten through to the girl.

"Awwwwww! Is Zassy-chan grumpy today? Don't worry, lil' Setsuka will make it genki again, sushi Bob Sapp no kachi!"

Perhaps not.

And now he couldn't remember the part of the cunning plan he'd been thinking about.

It was going to be a long, long day.

* * *

In the next chapter: Mitsurugi and Siegfried reach their employer's mansion, where Cervantes is only just recovering from the Voldo shock. What will this meeting signify? What will come of it?

Whatever it is, it won't be good in the slightest for our protagonists.


	6. Do What Thou Wilt, Buster

Well, friends, we've made it to Chapter 6. There should probably be something deep to follow that, like "only a little while to go now", but there's really no end in sight. This could drag on for a long, long time. P

The feedback, as always, is hugely appreciated. I'm glad people enjoy the story so far.

Disclaimer: Hate mail because you can't change the Holy Jacket's green lining to white should be sent to Namco, because they, rather than I, own Soul Calibur. My Alexander Anderson CAS is RUINED. RUINED, I SAY.

Disclaimer Part Deaux: Nightmare's attempt at a new hit in this chapter is an excerpt from "I Am The Anti-Pope" by Zladko "ZLAD!" Vladcik. Thankfully, my mind is not quite diseased enough to come up with it.

* * *

Chapter Six: Do What Thou Wilt, Buster

_The conclave entered into the room.  
Inside of it they sat, these cardinals of doom.  
Their votes was unanimous.  
The horror instantaneous.  
Observe! Smoke from chimney - not white but red!  
They say it was the day that God bled.  
Nuns weeped, holy men cursed  
As they looked up onto the balcony and saw…  
Beelzebub the First! _

I am the Anti-Pope!  
I am the Anti-Pope!  
Like a lion kills an antelope!  
Like a hammer hits a cantaloupe!  
I am the Anti-Pope!

Two thousand years ago

_Jesus said to his traveling show---_

Tira suppressed the urge to scream in rage, and instead simply buried her face in her hands. "This is actually dumber than that Engrish thing about eagles."

"Come on," protested Nightmare, "I thought it was edgy, and dangerous. At the very least, we'll make sales off the controversy. The Concerned Parents Of Eurasia Organization---" (commonly abbreviated as the onomatopoeia CPOEO, which is the sound of fun being squelched) "---would be all over a song about the only pope ever to be crucified at the stake."

"Edgy? No. Dangerous? Perhaps to the people who have to listen to it."

Nightmare turned and sulked, fiddling with his Stratocaster. "Well, fine. You come up with a song then."

"Perhaps I will," Tira shot back, and went back to warming up. Her scales were interrupted, however, when Astaroth walked (well, more stormed than walked) up with all the grace of the Soviets turning Berlin to rubble. "HEY," he roared, "I'VE GOT AN IDEA. WHAT IF WE LET ME WRITE THE NEXT SONG?"

"No," replied both of them simultaneously.

"AW, COME ON. IT CAN BE ABOUT HITTING THINGS WITH AXES---"

"Absolutely not," said Nightmare.

Astaroth harrumphed. "SPOILSPORTS."

* * *

"It's not that it's any different from a normal relationship," explained Ivy patiently. "Voldo just happens to be a bit…unorthodox."

Cervantes had been carried back to the plush couch in the drawing room after passing out. Yoshimitsu was currently trying to cool him down with a fan, while Maxi sat across the room on the sofa next to Voldo and Ivy, who couldn't seem to keep their eyes (or hands) off each other.

"Unorthodox?" Cervantes sputtered. "He's some kind of blind, subterranean lollygagger, not just unorthodox."

Ivy scoffed, putting an arm around the Italian Stallion. "Don't judge him just because he's blind, Daddy. After all, he can still find all the right places…" She dropped her cohabitator a lascivious wink, causing Maxi to go into dry heaves on the other end of the sofa.

"I'll have you know, sir," said Cervantes, "that I will not tolerate that kind of behavior, if you get me. No one, rich as they may be, is going to be dishonoring my virginal flower of a daughter."

At that, Ivy snorted, and there was another pause as Cervantes realized everybody was staring at him. "What?" he asked, bewildered.

Fortunately, just then someone pounded on the door and saved them all from what was probably going to be a very awkward moment. "Uh, I'll get it," said Maxi, leaping up. "Cervantes, maybe you'd better come with me, in case there are…uh….ninjas. Yeah, ninjas."

At the mention of every pirate's sworn enemy, the captain leapt up off the couch and followed with a hearty "ahhhhhrrrrr". Ivy breathed a sigh of relief and leaned her head over on Voldo's shoulder. "That could've been rough," she chuckled.

Yoshimitsu nodded. "Perhaps," he advised in that infuriating wise-old-man voice he used whenever he was going to dispense cryptic, semi-allegorical advice, "the crane would do best not to operate heavy machinery while under the influence of alcohol."

"_SSSSSSSSS_," agreed Voldo.

* * *

"So I was thinking," said Siegfried as they waited for someone to answer the elegant French doors of the Valentine Mansion.

"Well, that's a first," replied Mitsurugi. "What about?"

"We need a name."

The ronin glared, and almost had to take a sip from his sake jug in consternation. "We HAVE names. And I like mine perfectly fine as it is—"

"No, no," Siegfried interrupted. "I mean a name for our team. Like, you're Japanese, right?"

"Right…"

"And I'm a poor wind-whipped soul tortured by the shadows of my dark and tragic past, right?"

"Oh, spare me."

"SO….I think we should be called 'My Tears Flow Like Blood-Red Hiragana.'"

There was a pause, in which the only sound that filled the silent vacuum was Mitsurugi's very heavy, labored breathing, which he interpreted optimistically. "So…you like it, huh?"

The door opened, and Maxi looked out at Mitsurugi, who was preparing to strike down Siegfried with a mighty swing of Shishi-Oh. "Uh…."

Siegfried looked up, and Mitsurugi quickly put the sword away. "Uh, yes," he stammered, "we're here to see Ms. Valentine. Is she in?"

* * *

"I see them, Zassy-chan! Hara-kiri wa!"

On the other side of the Valentine Mansion, Setsuka precariously swayed back and forth in the air, peering through the side window into the drawing room. She was balanced, rather haphazardly, on Zasalamel's shoulders, and her constant fidgeting and bouncing of excitement was more than enough to put a serious strain on his fortitude (and patience).

"Oh, for chrissakes," moaned the aforementioned mastermind, "just focus on what they're doing and stop speaking in tongues. We must ensure that everything is going as my cunning plan has dictated."

Silence ensued for a couple seconds as Setsuka intently stared through the window. Zasalamel, having grown impatient to hear what was going on, took this opportunity to impatiently look up and found himself with a picture-perfect view up his henchwoman's kimono.

Silence ensued for a couple more seconds. In fact, quite a few more.

"ICHUZO!" shouted Setsuka, startling Zasalamel out of his reverie. "They just arrived at the onimusha manriki-gusari—"

"Huh? Oh, the ronin just got to the g-str….mansion! Mansion! Yes, excellent!" he declared, frantically trying to get his mind back on the cunning plan and stepping forward to rub his hands together menacingly. Ignoring the loud _thud_ behind him, he continued, "Finally, the necessary components of this half of the cunning plan are in order! Now, to set the second half in motion!"

"….nani?" asked a dazed Setsuka, looking up from the ground.

"No time to waste, my loyal thighs…uh, henchman! I mean henchman! Christ, I don't know what's wrong with me today, heh heh…uh, anyway, to China! Posthaste!"

* * *

"Ah," said Ivy as Siegfried and Mitsurugi took their places in a pair of drawing room chairs, "the mercenaries have arrived. Maxi, Yoshimitsu, and my dear father, these are my hired swords, Siegfried and Mitsurugi."

"Actually," piped up Siegfried, "our name is now 'My Tears Flow Like Blood-Red Hiragana.'"

The room went quiet, as Maxi snickered under his breath, Cervantes muttered something about "emo wusses", and Mitsurugi glowed crimson until it appeared he'd burst a blood vessel.. Eventually, Ivy smoothed over the awkward silence by continuing as if nothing had happened. "Anyway, I happen to be sending these two off to Spain to complete a task for me, and they happened to arrive here today so they could get the first half of their payment up front. In fact, I have it with me right here, if you'll hold on a second…"

While Ivy and Mitsurugi conferred at the side of the room, Cervantes struck up a conversation with Siegfried. "So tell me, Nancy," he asked, "how are you gonna be getting to Spain?"

"Well, presumably, we'll be walking," replied the angst-ridden _ubermensch_ archetype, "until we can find a ship whose crew doesn't hate me from the bottom of their hearts (and righteously so) for the atrocities I committed as Nightmare and for accepting a job from a woman who's a known practitioner of the Black Arts—"

"Now hold on a tick," said Ivy, smoothing over the numerous arcane symbols on her belt, "I am an alchemist. And I most certainly do NOT practice any Black Arts," then dropped some gold into Mitsurugi's palm (from a changepurse that bore a stylized Daffy Duck with the text 'Do what thou wilt, buster'). "Anyway, Daddy, you think you could take them with you? You know, as a favor?"

"NO," answered Cervantes vehemently. "Usagi Yojimbo over there I don't mind—"

"That's the most backhanded compliment I've ever gotten," mused Mitsurugi.

"---but there's no way in hell Hitler McLinkinpark is going to weep and wail over the seven seas with my crew. There's no crying in piracy, Isabella."

"Daddy!" Ivy protested, defiantly stomping a stiletto-heeled foot.

"It's settled. They're not coming with me."

A sly, cold grin came over Ivy's face, and Cervantes recognized it (much to his own discomfort) as the grin he used when he was about to spring a trap. "You know," she trailed off, "I might be willing to forgive this month's lack of child support payments…"

* * *

"But pirates are cruel!" protested Siegfried as he thudded along the path trailing behind his three new comrades. "What if they judge me for what I once was and unmercifully---"

Mitsurugi continued to drag him along behind the group by the scruff of the neck. "Shut UP."

"Don't worry, boys", Cervantes informed them, "it's perfectly safe on the _Adrian_, assuming emoboy here keeps his mouth shut. Spain, here we come, assuming it's all right with Jesus."

"Namuuuu," said Yoshimitsu.

* * *

Ivy closed the door and sighed. Ah, that'd gone well. She turned back, dusted off her elbow-length white gloves, and looked up to face Voldo. "Well," Ivy smiled, "that takes care of that. See, Daddy likes you after all."

Voldo apparently disagreed, and voiced his concerns with a well-thought-out "_SSSSSS_".

"Oh, nonsense. He just doesn't show affection that easily."

"_SSSSS SSSSSSSSSSSSS._"

"Ooooh, I love it when you talk dirty. C'mere, you," purred Ivy, and tackled him to the carpet.

* * *

What will be waiting for Cervantes, his hitchhikers, and M.T.F.L.B.R.H. in Spain? What is the second half of Zasalamel's cunning plan? Can Nightmare write a song worth a damn? Who's the upcoming minor antagonist? It's blatantly spoiled in the title of the next chapter, "The World Is A Vampire." 


	7. The World Is A Vampire

Disclaimer: Namco owns Soul Calibur. I have them to thank for the fact that I'm writing Chapter 7 when I should be studying for finals.

In response to the deluge of concerned letters (and I would like to personally thank the two and a half of you who wrote), this chapter will finally reveal the state of Talim's well-being. This is ALSO my favorite chapter so far.

* * *

Chapter Seven: The World Is A Vampire

Talim awoke to a world of sand and habaneras.

Pushing herself up to a kneeling position, she cast a confused glance around her, taking in the sight of a pleasant morning on the beach. But this was not any beach she remembered from back home, no sir; it was completely and utterly foreign to her. The melodic strains of Spanish guitars wafted over to Talim's ears, and she turned to look at its source. A group of Carmen-esque gypsies danced on a nearby dune to the tunes of a mariachi band as a toreador artfully dodged an incoming bull that had "WELCOME TO SPAIN: COME FOR THE SUNSHINE, STAY FOR THE CHOLERA" tattooed on its side.

"I wonder what country I've washed up in," Talim mused out loud.

Little did she know, she'd manage to circumnavigate the _entire continent of Asia_ after falling into the river (a wizard did it, or a squid, or perhaps a combination of both), and that this was a place worlds apart from the comforts of home.

More importantly, she couldn't help but feel a bit on edge. There was something boiling up violently within her, threatening to tear itself out violently, and in that moment, she felt a mighty berserker rage come over her. It was insatiable! She had to spill blood, and she had to do it now!

_But_, she protested inwardly, _why would I do such a thing? I'm not a murderous psychopath. Could this be the influence of the Soul Ed---_

And that was as far as she got before her irises glowed a vicious red and the taint of Soul Edge took over. "Slaughter!" growled Talim, and started towards the gypsies, mariachis, and matador with a vicious, bloodthirsty gleam in her eyes.

* * *

"Our mission," said Mitsurugi as they strode up the street in Madrid, "is to get into the Sorel Mansion and retrieve a priceless alchemical artifact for Ms. Valentine."

Cervantes and Yoshimitsu were walking next to the ronin, and listened intently. "What is this artifact you speak of?" asked Cervantes. "Some kind of foreign idol, forged in the fires of a thousand vermillion hells?"

"Precisely," came the reply. "It's called the Maltese Ringworm."

"A rolling ringworm," observed Yoshimitsu, "gathers no AIDS."

In the back of the group, Maxi was ensuring Siegfried kept up the pace and didn't slit his wrists or something. The German knight had proven to be a nigh-impossible charge to take care of, constantly whining about something one minute and deploring his supposedly-wretched state the next, and Maxi was fairly sure that, if they didn't get where they were going soon, his hair was going to start to fray. And that simply could not be allowed.

"You don't understand," Siegfried was saying. "Nobody understands the pain that fragments my soul like a fractured mirror under the---"

"Hey look, that shop's got half off on eyeliner."

"Where?" Siegfried spun to see, and a nunchaku clocked him in the back of his head. Maxi sighed with relief as he dragged the unconscious man behind him. Yeah, it was more physical exertion, but anything was preferable to listening to him.

"Anyway, it won't be easy," Mitsurugi continued. "The Maltese Ringworm is closely guarded by the local nobleman, Raphael Sorel, and he's got a reputation as a real denizen of the night."

"I don't seem to be following you," said Cervantes. "A denizen of the night?"

"Well, let's just say his bite is worse than his bark."

"Still don't really get it."

"He's the kind who'll suck you dry, if you know what I mean."

"Uh, no, I'm afraid I don't."

"He really needs some Halls, to stop his 'coffin', if you dig."

"I can't dig, it seems."

"The only kind of bank he'd rob is a blood bank."

"I'm not making a connection."

"Goddammit."

* * *

Dr. Watson took a step over the bloody, mutilated heap that was once a guitar-playing mariachi (it appeared his guitar had been forcibly lodged in his duodenum) and puffed heartily on his pipe, sending up an impressive cloud of tobacco smoke. He was taking care to step only on the parts of the beach that didn't have gore and organs strewn all over them, which was no small feat in and of itself. "But Holmes," the distinguished gentleman protested, "I find it most unlikely that a sole varlet, wicked as he may be, would be capable of such widespread terror."

"On the contrary," countered Sherlock Holmes as he stared at the breasts of a decapitated gypsy girl with his magnifying glass, "the salient facts present would seem to indicate that nothing _but_ a lone operator could've accomplished such blackguardry."

"I must beg your pardon," replied his friend as he removed a severed arm in the throes of rigor mortis from clutching his ankle. "The gears of your mind have fast raced on, I see, and left me trailing in their wake, for I do not see your line of reasoning."

"My conclusion is simple yet effective, Watson," Holmes answered. "As can be seen by an examination of the cuts on this gypsy, they were clearly not perpetrated by some form of beast, nor by the haphazard batterings of a mob. The slices were swiftly and expertly applied by a rapscallion who had considerable dexterity, and lacked no skill with their weapon of choice."

Watson surveyed the remains of the matador and bull, which had been forcibly merged into a recreation of Pablo Picasso's _Guernica_. "This is all well and good," he said, "but this is a feat above and beyond any human being, is it not? Look at that, Holmes; the bull has been turned inside out and processed through this poor man's spleen! No man possesses such strength."

"Precisely. You have as much as said it yourself, friend; no man could have been capable of such violence. Ergo, I conclude that it was not, in fact, a man."

"So it was a monster! And it has been loosed here in Europe, Holmes? May God forbid such catastrophes."

"No," said Holmes as he stooped to examine a strewn-about length of small intestine, "it was neither man nor monster, something far more formidable. I am speaking, of course, of the fairer sex, Watson."

"A woman, you say?" asked Watson.

"Indeed I do; however, I do not suspect any ordinary woman of this barbarism. Note, please, our second clue, that being this bullfighter's weapon of choice."

The sword to which Holmes was referring was on top of the pile of bodies, thrust downwards through the entire stack into the beach. "You see," he said, "what does the position of this blade tell us?"

Dr. Watson ventured a guess. "It was the easiest way to hit them all with one thrust?"

"Well guessed," said Holmes, holding up a finger, "but the true answer is slightly less obvious. Note that all the bodies are prostrate, indicating a show of reverence for this sword, which just so happens to also be at the apex of this macabre ziggurat."

"I see."

"Additionally, if you would be so kind as to direct your attention to this length of rope, tied expertly and painstakingly around the neck of this fellow. What do you make of this, Watson?"

"He was strangled?" asked the good doctor.

"Again, Watson, you fail to look at the larger scope of the puzzle." Holmes adjusted his overcoat and held up his magnifying glass to the rope. "Clearly, this rope is meant to be a collar, indicating servitude or thralldom."

Watson nodded. "Ohhhh."

"And what kind of people would commit such an act as this?"

"Evil ones?"

"Our conclusions march as one. With that," said Holmes, "the mystery is unraveled. I have deduced, from the clues involved (namely, the woman, the sword, the collar, and the evil), that the murderer is in fact a woman, but not just any woman, no. Specifically, _a woman who is in the thrall of an evil sword_."

A silence passed as the two pondered this and stared at the carnage. Finally, Watson broke the heavy tension with his amazed response. "What the deuce, Holmes," he exclaimed. "That's brilliant."

"No, Watson," came the reply, "it's elementary."

* * *

It hadn't taken that much work to scale the walls of the Sorel Mansion. Mitsurugi hadn't even found the whiny Siegfried to be much of a handicap as the two climbed up the forty-foot maze of parapets and balconies and prepared to descend down the chimney.

It went so well, he wasn't even all that annoyed when Yoshimitsu pointed out that the back door was right there and he and Siegfried had to climb back down to go through it.

"All right," the samurai huffed and puffed, "what's this you were talking about?"

"There is a message on the door," replied Yoshimitsu. He removed the parchment and read it aloud.

_Amy,_

_I have departed to go terrorize villagers in a generally villainous_

_manner, and will be back within the hour. The key to the backdoor_

_is under the mat, and it also conveniently unlocks the glass case_

_in which I am holding the Maltese Ringworm._

_Remember not to tell anybody about it, or someone might try_

_to steal the Maltese Ringworm. Those fools, they could never_

_truly grasp the greatness of my evil schemes, for one day_

_we shall rule the world! Ah, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha_

_(cont. on back)_

Yoshimitsu flipped the parchment over.

_ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaa!_

_Sincerely, Raphael_

"Let's get the key and head in!" Maxi exclaimed with enthusiasm. He found the key and handed it to Yoshimitsu, who unlocked the door.

Siegfried raised a hand. "Isn't it wrong to break into someone's---"

"Shut up," said Mitsurugi as he dragged Siegfried into the house after him, "and don't attract attention. Cervantes, come with us. You two, stay out here and stand watch while we're inside."

"No problem," agreed Cervantes, and he followed them in.

* * *

Talim left a trail of blood and sand behind her as she leapt from roof to roof, following the scent of more people to randomly butcher. There was one guy in particular, who was heading towards a large mansion on the end of the street, that she seemed to sense as far more powerful (and thus, far more satisfying to off), and she was determined to chase him down.

Yes, this one seemed to be quite jacked, and he would probably have bodyguards (from the look of him, he was some kind of local nobleman. No matter. Talim was out for blood today, and as she produced her tonfas, she knew that the blood was about to flow.

But whose blood would it be?

* * *

Coming up, we check up on Ostrheinsburg, as well as Zasalamel's cunning plan. Can the heroes steal the Maltese Ringworm for Ivy? And Talim faces off with Raphael, but an unexpected third party intervenes, in the next chapter, "A View To A Mild Beating". 


	8. A View To A Mild Beating

Much thanks for the reviews as always. Mr. TheKaWhatshisface, fear not (or should I say "don't panic", LOL M I RITE), it's coming. So have a little patience; Zasalamel's cunning plan and the second half of the story revolve entirely around such an element.

This one's long compared to the rest, and lots of stuff happens. Wheeee.

Disclaimer: Yeah…it's still Konami's.

* * *

Chapter Eight: A View To A Mild Beating

With M.T.F.L.B.R.H. and Cervantes having headed inside to search for the Maltese Ringworm, Yoshimitsu and Maxi were left to guard the backdoor of the mansion. It was a nice day out, the kind that unconsciously puts a bit of a spring in your step, so neither really minded. Without much else to do, they fell to engaging in conversation.

"So how'd you join up with Cervantes?" Maxi asked, adjusting his hair by the reflection of a back window. "I figure it was a little more peaceful than the way I did, eh?"

The mechanized samurai toyed with some of the dials and knobs on his arm before replying, "I was hitchhiking, for my ship had been destroyed by a strange man with the head of the mighty European deity Orly (god of defiance). It was necessary for me to carry the gold I had acquired back to my hideout in Mount Fuji, and Captain Cervantes showed himself to be a noble man and took me with him. He has treated me with the utmost respect, much to my delight."

"Well, yeah. He thinks you're Jesus."

"I must admit," continued Yoshimitsu with a puzzled look (or as much of a one as a person with no facial expressions can muster), "that I am mostly unfamiliar with the culture of this Western world, and am not sure just how prestigious the honorific of being a 'Jesus' is. It must be something grand, to---"

He broke off as he saw Maxi staring at him like he'd suddenly sprouted a third arm. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Well," began the dandy with a certain awkward stammer to his voice, "I don't think you two understand each other quite clearly. A 'Jesus' isn't an honorific, it's a person. A religious icon."

Yoshimitsu's eyes would widen, if they could. "Come again?" he asked.

"See, you think Cervantes is giving you some kind of title, but he apparently thinks you're the Jewish messiah."

Silence ensued, until Yoshimitsu responded with "Oh." It was all he could think of at the time.

* * *

Talim perched on top of a gargoyle on the outside of a building, keeping her Soul Edge-enhanced eyes trained on the strange man as he strode down the sidewalk towards a huge mansion. It seemed he wasn't going to cut across the front yard and go through his main door, but instead would be clandestinely entering through the back.

Well, that wouldn't do at all. She couldn't just blitzkrieg the most powerful man in Madrid in his backyard. People had to _see_ it happen, and know who did it, or there wouldn't be much point to it in the first place, now would there?

And so, Talim began to stalk around the side of the roof, preparing to leap down on the man and take the fight to the streets as he got around to the back…

* * *

"This is most disconcerting," Yoshimitsu was saying. "If Cervantes thinks me to be some kind of messianic icon, then it is my duty to put him straight that I am, in fact—"

"You there!' came a call from the other end of the backyard. Both of them looked up with a gasp to see a stranger standing there at the gate. He was overly foppish yet menacing in his elegant frills and ruffles; in fact, all he needed was a monocle and a top hat and he'd be the ideal stereotype of aristocracy. Most importantly, there was no mistaking the aura of cold yet hot, elegant yet animalistic, statist yet neoliberal aura around him. The way the mist seemed to swirl around his cape and legs as he walked, the icy chill of his catlike eyes, the gaping fangs that hung down over his lower lip, the way overweight mallgoth girls swooned over him in the streets, the trills and glissandos and Spanish moss hanging in the moonlight, this man could be only one thing.

"Holy shit," said Maxi, "it's that guy from Malice Mizer."

"No!" shouted the newcomer. "I am the vampire Raphael Sorel!" He swept out his cape behind him and produced a wicked-looking rapier. "You are trespassing on my grounds! Come to steal my Maltese Ringworm, have you?"

Yoshimitsu thought quickly. "No."

"Oh really? Then why do you so hastily seek your demise?" demanded the Nosferatu.

"All right, look at it this way. If we were here to steal the Maltese Ringworm, would we not have it with us?"

"You might not yet have taken it," Raphael countered.

"So there is no evidence. Then you cannot ascertain our motivations for being here," declared a satisfied Yoshimitsu, accentuating his point with a finger in the air.

"Yes, I can."

"How?"

"Because I can read your mind. I'm a vampire, remember?"

"Wait a minute," put in Maxi, "Anne Rice never said anything about reading minds."

"Well, we can!" shouted Raphael indignantly. "I'm reading yours right now!"

"Fine, then, what am I thinking?"

"You're thinking I can't do it."

"Nuh uh," said Maxi.

"Yeah huh!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yeah huh!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Stop lying! I know you were thinking that, just as assuredly as I know I'm about to get jumped from behind by a Soul Edge-tainted homicidal maniac, because I CAN READ MINDS---"

_WHAM.

* * *

_

Nightmare held his breath with anticipation as Tira looked over the newest song he'd penned. This was the one, he knew. The song that would catapult them back to the top of the charts and keep them from being sued by that damnable record label. "So…" he asked, polishing an invisible apple, "what do you think of it?"

Tira's brow furrowed. "I don't know…it's kinda dumb."

"What?" snapped Nightmare. "How can you call that dumb? It's a masterpiece!"

"The rhyme scheme is awful, though. You can't just rhyme the word "black" over and over again."

"That's part of the beauty of it!" Nightmare was fuming again. "The repetition to emphasize utter blackness, representing the evil in—"

"And what the hell is with the red door? Nobody could ever make this song a hit, Nightmare. This is ridiculous."

"THAT'S IT!" roared the Soul Edge-wielding virtuoso. "I'm FINISHED. Done with all of you. I wash my hands of this. If I'm not good enough for the rest of you, then you can play the damn show at the Colosseum by yourselves! I will see you, Madame, in JAIL!"

He stormed to the door and slammed it on his way out, carrying his Limited Edition Nightmare Signature Fender Stratocaster over one shoulder with the strap (rather in the style of some kind of guitarist desperado, or perhaps Yngwie Malmsteen). Tira stared after him in horror, and then turned, only to see her two remaining bandmates looking at her expressionlessly. After a second, Charade turned its damning gaze away and went to mess with a snare drum, and Astaroth's look was more one of horror than anger.

"DUDE," he screamed, "THIS IS GONNA BE ALL OVER THE FRONT PAGE OF METALLURGIST MONTHLY BY TOMORROW."

Tira suddenly felt very helpless.

* * *

"Ugh," muttered Raphael as he pushed himself up from the gravel of the street. "No one sucker-punches the great Raphael Sorel and lives to tell about it!" He spun around, snatching his rapier back up. "So…it is you who have attacked me, you wretched little waif!"

"Exterminate!" growled Talim. "Expurgate! Exacerbate! Expectorate!"

"Your alliteration's good, but mine is better!" retorted the vampire, swinging his rapier outwards in a flamboyant, yet awkward attempt at homosexual overtones (because that's all the rage with vampires these days). "For I have had eternity in this prison we Nosferatu have created for ourselves, an endless paradox of joy and sorrow, to—"

_SMACK_. He was on his back again. "AAAAARGH!" Raphael kipped up to his feet and dashed at this insolent whelp who'd dared to strike him, not once, but _twice_, as he'd attempted to deliver a monologue. "Die!" His keen ears picked up the sound of metal scraping across metal as his opening thrust slid over her tonfas.

She'd caught him off guard twice. It wouldn't happen again.

Well, hopefully.

* * *

"You think we should break it up?" asked Yoshimitsu.

Maxi looked at the little girl and the vampire fighting in the street. They were moving pretty goddamn fast, he decided, far too fast to bother trying to keep up and separate them. "Nah," he decided. "If he's distracted, that means we have less to worry about. Besides, this is pretty fun to watch."

"So who do you think has the upper hand?"

"Oh, the kid, definitely."

"I agree."

* * *

While such derision was amusing, Raphael was, in fact, holding his own beautifully. In fact, his precision and skill were beginning to win out over Talim's wild, feral swings. At long last, her patience fell away under the surgical strikes of his offense, and she made a mistake by leaping forward for a double-handed overhand slash. Raphael shifted into a cloud of mist, however, and she passed right through him, leaving herself wide open on landing.

He took advantage of this opportunity as only a master fencer can, thrusting the point of his sword directly for the spot in between the girl's shoulder blades. However, she moved far faster than he could've imagined, and jumped up, actually landing on the flat of the rapier's blade and using it like a diving board to flip backwards into the air and kick off the back of his head, landing on her feet. Raphael wasn't knocked over by this one; rather, he recovered his balance and whirled around adroitly to chase back after her.

* * *

"All right," said Mitsurugi as he, Cervantes, and Siegfried emerged from the mansion. He had the ruby and quartz statuette of the Maltese Ringworm (which was about the size of a mantelpiece knickknack) under one arm. "We've got what we came for. C'mon, let's get going."

The group casually walked out of the yard, passing the cloud of dust that surrounded Talim and Raphael's dueling. "What's going on over there?" asked Cervantes.

"Oh, you know," said Maxi. "Bad part of town, these kind of things happen."

"Well," Mitsurugi thought out loud, "as long as it keeps girly boy over there out of our hair, it's fine by me."

"Why are you so mean to me?" Siegfried pouted.

"Not you, I—" The samurai looked down at where he had been holding the statue. "What the hell? The Maltese Ringworm! It's gone!"

"Indeed," came a voice from behind them, "gone from the hands of those who cannot hope to properly use it!"

They spun around in shock, and everyone's gaze fell upon a mysterious man in a white cloak, holding a scythe in one hand and the Maltese Ringworm in the other. By his side was a woman who, despite being obviously Caucasian, was adorned in a red and yellow Hello Kitty kimono with a parasol. Both were grinning quite widely (although the former's grin was menacing and the latter's looked suspiciously like an ASCII smiley), and as they stood there, everything seemed to freeze into bright colors as an oddly Engrishy theme song played in the background.

"Setsuka," snapped Zasalamel, "I told you never EVER to do that again."

"Aw. Gomen nasai," muttered Setsuka, hanging her head.

"Who be ye," Cervantes asked, pointing Acheron at the two, "and what're you doing stealing that statue that WE rightfully stole?"

"Why, I'm not stealing it," the mastermind proclaimed, "I'm taking it back!"

"But it was never yours in the first place."

"Let's not get wrapped up in the details. Anyway, this is the final element of my cunning plan! Everything is in position to be accomplished, at long last, and now, all that remains is to head back to Hung Lo Shrine in China."

"Why?" asked Yoshimitsu. "What's there?"

"Setsuka and I have made preparations for the climax of the cunning plan, and as soon as we arrive, it will be too late for the world! For I shall place this mighty talisman on the altar, and summon the greatest god in all of China!"

"No!" Siegfried gasped. "You can't be speaking of…"

"Yes, child of emo," cackled Zasalamel as he pointed skywards, "I am speaking of the slayer of deities, the sovereign of unhallowed power, the King of Dragons…the mighty…

…**_LONG WANG._**"

* * *

The entire eastern section of the fence around the Sorel mansion collapsed as Talim crashed into it at full speed. A lesser person would be crippled or unconscious, but the Soul Edge drove her on, and she leapt to her feet with both tonfas at the ready. It was just in time, because Raphael descended in front of her just then for his followup attack.

Seeing that his adversary was ready for him, however, he found no suitable angle to attack from, and so the vampire stepped back. "It seems," he was loath to admit, "that we are evenly matched."

Talim simply growled.

"Perhaps," Raphael continued, "it would be better if---"

"FREEZE!"

Both of them turned as a group of red-clad soldiers stormed into the yard behind them. All wore heavy crucifixes on chains around their necks, and all bore swords at their belts and crossbows in their hands. In the back of this phalanx stood a sole figure in chainmail and a skirt, with the same crucifix necklace and in one hand, a shield which bore the Sacred Heart on it. Her other hand bore a vast white broadsword.

"Paladin Cassandra Alexandra," spat Raphael with disgust. "I was not expecting this."

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," smirked his arch-nemesis. "And besides, you should've. You're in Spain, for crying out loud."

* * *

"What kind of devious deviance is this?" demanded Cervantes. "Why would you go calling forth the King of Dragons?"

Zasalamel scoffed at the revenant. "I would never reveal that information to one such as you! You are not worthy to witness the glorious dawn I shall bring upon this earth. Suffice it to say that once I call forth Long Wang, I shall harness the ultimate power, enabling me to rule the world with an iron fist!"

"You're mad!" shouted Yoshimitsu.

"No, I'm happy! Because by tomorrow night, the universe shall be mine!" Before anybody could react, Zasalamel threw down a smoke bomb, and in the ensuing confusion, he and Setsuka casually walked away as everyone coughed.

"That conniving bastard!" Cervantes shook his head clear. "We have to stop him!"

"We do?" asked Maxi.

"And save the world from being ruled by the likes of him!"

"But he's calling Long freakin' Wang," said Mitsurugi. "There's no way we can stand up to the likes of Long Wang! We'd be rubbed out of existence!"

"Then if he gets in the way…" and here Cervantes brandished his swords, "we'll just have to cut Long Wang down to size!"

"Owww," moaned Siegfried, clutching himself in phantom pain.

"No time for lollygagging! To the _Adrian_! We have to be at the Hung Lo Shrine by tomorrow night!"

* * *

"So what do you plan to do?" asked Raphael warily, as he and Talim turned to meet the oncoming Inquisition troops that Cassandra was calling towards them. "Take us into custody and try to force-feed me communion wafers like last time?"

"No, Count Sorel," replied the head paladin, "you proved yourself unworthy of that last time when you puked up our Lord's body. So instead, we're just going to shoot you and throw your bodies in the river. In nomine patri, douche."

"Aw, hell," said Raphael.

* * *

In the next chapter: Zasalamel's cunning plan outlined IN FULL (which by itself should be enough incentive to read it). Can the heroes stop him and Setsuka from summoning the mightiest god of all? Can Raphael and Talim escape the Spanish Inquisition despite not being able to cooperate (or communicate) in the least? And can Tira get Nightmare back into Ostrheinsburg in time to play at the concert? Find out in the next chapter, "Long Wang Is Coming"! (snicker) 


	9. Long Wang Is Coming

Disclaimer: It's the same old, the same old song and dance.

Chapter Nine: Long Wang Is Coming

* * *

"Setsuka!" shouted Zasalamel, holding his scythe high. "Raise the altar!"

"Hai, Zassy-chan!" (There was no "yes" with Setsuka, only "hai". She didn't know the word for "no", so whenever she disagreed with somebody, she'd simply call them a "baka".) The massive stone altar began to rise to the top of Hung Lo Shrine via the chain pulley that Setsuka was turning the crank to, bringing Zasalamel higher and higher until he was nearly at the roof.

"Setsuka! Open the roof!"

"Hai, Zassy-chan!" As another pulley turned, the roof split apart and pulled back like some kind of Chinese masonry Christmas present, exposing Zasalamel to the night sky, which was, distressingly, pretty clear. There were barely any clouds, and they were all a pleasant cirronimbus. It was a shame, he mused; he would've preferred a dark and stormy night to execute his cunning plan, but…well, one couldn't have everything one wanted.

"Setsuka! Begin the cerem---"

"Not so fast, Zasalamel!"

Expecting to hear that he'd activated someone's trap card, Zasalamel swept his cloak out behind him and turned around, only to see that Cervantes had kicked open the front doors of the shrine and was poised twenty feet below him, accompanied by Yoshimitsu and Maxi on either side.

"Aha, Captain," sneered the mastermind of this grand scheme. "So you've finally come to meet your doom—wait, where're those other two?"

"I can't go in a holy place!" came a sob from outside the doors. "I am an unhallowed being, drenched in the sins of my past, and my hands are too stained with the blood of the innocent to—"

"Shut up," snarled Mitsurugi as he dragged Siegfried into the shrine and took up a fighting stance next to their trio of compatriots.

"Even with your mercenaries, you cannot hope to defeat me," Zasalamel proclaimed from his lofty vantage point. "For this is all part of my cunning plan, and you are acting precisely as I have predicted."

"So tell me, just what the hell _is_ this cunning plan?" asked Cervantes.

"I'm glad you asked. Setsuka, turn on the fan!"

"Hai, Zassy-chan!"

"**SEVEN THOUSAND YEARS AGO…**" thundered Zasalamel as the wind swept his cape up behind him…

* * *

"Zasalamel!" called Pharaoh Lotsenkhamen the Fifteenth. "Have you anything to report?"

Grand Vizier Zasalamel stepped out from the ranks of noblemen and court officials, and bowed to the pharaoh. "Your Majesty," he reported, "the Sphinx is completed!"

"Excellent!" proclaimed the Pharaoh. "Let's see it!"

With a flourish, the vizier drew back the curtains, and everybody in the throne room gasped at the sight of the noble Sphinx, reclining peacefully next to the palace. Lotsenkhamen clapped his hands. "Well done! It looks to be made with nothing but the finest workmanship and materials!"

"Actually," Zasalamel corrected with a proud gleam in his eye, "we were able to get the mortar pretty cheap from these merchants who happened to be passing through, so we saved a ton of gold while still maintaining the architectural integrity of—"

The Sphinx's nose slid off its face and plummeted a hundred feet to the ground, devastating the construction scaffolds underneath it and sending bodies and pieces thereof flying every which way.

"Oh, Thoth in a mushroom cloud," said Zasalamel. "Well, it's not that bad. I'm sure we can work things out, right? I mean, just cover it up with a nice decorative fresco, and nobody will ever notice…"

* * *

"What did that have to do with the cunning plan?" asked a bewildered Cervantes.

"What did that have to do with _anything_?" asked Yoshimitsu.

"Ah, that was the beginning of the fruition of the germination of the seed of my schemes!" proclaimed the grand mastermind. "I was exiled from my homeland of Egypt for botching the job on the Sphinx, and it was then that I resolved to create a cunning plan so cunning, so planlike, that it would wreak my revenge upon the entire human race for my misfortune!"

"Wait a minute," Maxi broke in, "are you telling us you're seven thousand years old?"

"Precisely. I am now far too ancient to bother with insignificant human affairs, albeit still too young to be a greeter at Wal-Mart."

"So when did you actually start coming up with the plan?" Cervantes pressed.

"**FIVE THOUS—**"

His cape wasn't picking up, and Zasalamel took a couple steps backwards to get in the path of the fan. "Setsuka! Stop the oscillator on the fan!"

"Hai, Zassy-chan!"

"**FIVE THOUSAND YEARS AGO…**"

* * *

The streets of Babylon were in panic. King Artaxerxesius had fled his throne and revelry so fast he'd left the Sacred Crown Of Megatherion behind. Everybody's attention was focused on the giant sentence drawn on the wall, apparently by the hand of God himself:

_MENE MENE TEKEL UPHARSIN_

Zasalamel grinned and dropped his can of spray paint, dashing over to the throne and grabbing the Sacred Crown Of Megatherion. Yes! Its mystical powers were all his! His cunning plan was now underway!

* * *

"I don't see any crowns," Maxi observed.

"Indeed not. That's because **TWO THOUSAND YEARS AGO….**"

* * *

The light from the forge's fire played off the jewels and gold of the Sacred Crown Of Megatherion in the night air. It rested on a workbench by a broad gold belt and an ornamental spear, the handle of which was currently being inspected by the blacksmith.

"So you're telling me," he said as he examined the relics, "that you want to make these into a statue?"

"Correct!" shouted Zasalamel, waking up half the neighborhood. "We shall forge the Babylonian Sacred Crown Of Megatherion, the Girdle of the Thunder God Thor, and the Longinus, the spear that pierced the side of Christ, into the greatest relic the world has ever seen: the _Maltese Ringworm!_"

"Why?" asked the puzzled blacksmith.

"Because, you simpleton! Once I can channel all this power into a single artifact, only then can I bring about the summoning of Long Wang in Hung Lo Shrine! A vast amount of sacred energy is necessary to arouse the King of Dragons, and only these items will suffice."

"If you say so, man."

* * *

"Now just a goddamn minute," said Mitsurugi. "Two thousand years ago was right around 400 B.C. You couldn't possibly have the Longinus, because Christ hadn't—"

"Shut up while I'm detailing my cunning plan!" Zasalamel screeched. "Anyway, I would've been able to accomplish it two thousand years sooner, if it weren't for that infernal Raphael Sorel snatching the Maltese Ringworm from me when it was completed, and putting it in that fruity art gallery that vampires always have. I could do nothing, for he was under the blessing of the mighty African deity Taquita (goddess of AIDS), and was shielded from the advances of his fellow immortals such as myself."

He pointed a finger at the heroes. "And so you have played right into my hands! By my machinations you were brought together, as a group of bad enough dudes to rescue the Ringworm from vampires. With Raphael out of the way, I have now but to activate the portal and Long Wang will arrive! And with the glory of his coming, he shall power up the greatest artifact in the history of the universe…"

With this, Zasalamel produced and held up an unremarkable white cubic prism. "Yes…" he gloated, "the most infinitely brilliant device I have ever deviced…er, devised. It harnesses the power of the sheer unlikelihood of something happening in order to make that very thing happen, essentially giving the person who wields it unlimited power once it is activated. I call it…_the Improbability Drive_."

"My god," breathed Cervantes. "You're mad!"

"No, still happy," replied Zasalamel. "For the apex of my cunning plan has arrived!"

"What? When?"

"**ABOUT FIVE MINUTES AGO…**"

* * *

"Excellent," cackled Zasalamel as he climbed to the center of the altar. "All I must do now is open the roof and raise the conduit, then plant the Maltese Ringworm in the center of the altar, and Long Wang shall arrive to power my Improbability Drive!"

He turned to look over his shoulder at his faithful henchman. "Setsuka! Raise the altar!"

"Hai, Zassy-chan!" (There was no "yes" with Setsuka, only "hai". She didn't know the word for "no", so whenever she disagreed with somebody, she'd simply call them a "baka".) The massive stone altar began to rise to the top of Hung Lo Shrine via the chain pulley that Setsuka was turning the crank to, bringing Zasalamel higher and higher until he was nearly at the roof.

"Setsuka! Open the roof!"

"Hai, Zassy-chan!" As another pulley turned, the roof split apart and pulled back like some kind of Chinese masonry Christmas present, exposing Zasalamel to the night sky, which was, distressingly, pretty clear. There were barely any clouds, and they were all a pleasant cirronimbus. It was a shame, he mused; he would've preferred a dark and stormy night to execute his cunning plan, but…well, one couldn't have everything one wanted.

"Setsuka! Begin the cerem---"

"Not so fast, Zasalamel!"

Expecting to hear that he'd activated someone's trap card, Zasalamel swept his cloak out behind him and turned around, only to see that Cervantes had kicked open the front doors of the shrine and was poised twenty feet below him, accompanied by Yoshimitsu and Maxi on either side.

"Aha, Captain," sneered the mastermind of this grand scheme. "So you've finally come to meet your doom—wait, where're those other two?"

"I can't go in a holy place!" came a sob from outside the doors. "I am an unhallowed being, drenched in the sins of my past, and my hands are too stained with the blood of the innocent to—"

"Shut up," snarled Mitsurugi as he dragged Siegfried into the shrine and took up a fighting stance next to their trio of compatriots.

"Even with your mercenaries, you cannot hope to defeat me," Zasalamel proclaimed from his lofty vantage point. "For this is all part of my cunning plan, and you are acting precisely as I have predicted."

"So tell me, just what the hell _is_ this cunning plan?" asked Cervantes.

"I'm glad you asked. Setsuka, turn on the fan!"

"Hai, Zassy-chan!"

"**SEVEN THOUSAND YEARS AGO…**" thundered Zasalamel as the wind swept his cape up behind him…

* * *

"What the hell, Snake?" yelled Colonel Campbell. "You can't have a flashback in the middle of a flashback! You've created a time paradox!"

_**FISSION MAILED

* * *

**_

Zasalamel has _broken the world_. Seriously, man, that's some heavy shit.

How can the day be saved if it no longer exists?

And if the space/time continuum is restored, can Zasalamel's cunning plan be thwarted?

Can _anything_ stop Long Wang?

Find out in the next chapter, "Less Cunning A Plan Than Advertised"!


	10. Not As Cunning A Plan

Disclaimer: Namco owns Soul Calibur. Assorted cameos in this chapter from characters owned by Capcom, Square-Enix, and Marvel.

The latter events of the chapter, with Setsuka's actions, are a blatant spoof, the source of which any RPG gamer worth their salt should recognize. Said game is the property of Square-Enix.

That should about cover it.

* * *

Chapter Ten: Not As Cunning A Plan As Advertised

Klawk, the god of chronology, sighed in frustration and drummed his fingers on his desk. "I can't believe this," he moaned. "They broke the time-space continuum_ again_? What are these idiots thinking?" He pushed the intercom button. "Tech support!"

The door to his divine office opened, causing Klawk to sigh in relief and look up to greet his technician. "Who'd they send this time?"

"It's Jesus, LOL," said Jesus. "What's the problem?"

* * *

Cervantes knew, at this point, that he was floating in some kind of bizarre mishmash of time and space due to Zasalamel's injudicious use of flashbacks, but he had no idea where he was, nor where the others had gotten off to. All that was evident at the time was that he was somewhere that looked like the love child of the Hung Lo Shrine and deep space, floating upside down in zero gravity.

"It's the Improbability Drive that's the source of this whole mess, you know."

The voice was coming from behind him. Cervantes spun around, or rather worked his way to an about-face as much as one can when weightless, and beheld the seemingly-omnipotent cube floating in the air in front of him, accompanied by a man in a robe and a coolie hat. He looked strangely familiar.

It was with great shock that Cervantes recognized him. "Li Long! You're alive?"

* * *

_The time/space continuum has performed an illegal operation and will be shut down._

_If the problem persists, contact your system administrator and report the error._

"And so it keeps displaying this error message over and over."

"Did you try turning it on and off a couple times?" asked Jesus.

The god of chronology sighed in frustration. "No, that would kill every living thing in existence, and we can't have that quite yet. You think there's some kind of bug in the CPU, or dust in the processor, or something?"

Jesus examined the universe's source code carefully, and concluded "You know, I think it might actually just be a system error."

* * *

"Kinda sorta," Li Long said as he picked up the Improbability Drive out of the air. "After you killed me in Soul Edge, Zasalamel came along and caught my soul in the Improbability Drive. I've been here ever since."

"Wait," said Cervantes, raising an eyebrow. "Are you saying we're inside the Improbability Drive?"

"Are we?" asked Li, "Or are we not? Are we just floating around inside the collective soup of human consciousness, a complex of our own devising brought together by the human race's thoughts, emotions, and experiences? Causality! Vis-à-vis! ERGO!"

"You're being needlessly cryptic."

"OK, you're right. We're inside the Improbability Drive."

Cervantes looked around him at the swirling vortex of spatial distortion. "So why did Zasalamel put you in here?"

"He needs us." Li let go of the Drive-within-a-Drive and folded his arms. "Ever since he created the Improbability Drive, he traversed the earth over his many lives, capturing the souls of those of us who fall in battle, and placing them in his creation. There are thousands of us in here."

"Millions. He's got enough of us to make this thing do whatever he wants," observed General Leo as he floated by in the background.

"When the psychokinetic energy we provide reacts with the glory of Long Wang's coming, the Improbability Drive will be powered and ready to use," said the eighteen split forms of Charlie Nash, merging and disassociating over and over.

"With great power comes great responsibility!" declared Uncle Ben, shortly before retreating under the now-less-than-Euclidean Altar of Long Wang.

"So you see," Li Long continued, "the Improbability Drive is the real problem here."

Cervantes mused on this for a minute. He was not normally a deep thinker, but was this the kind of situation that would require more brains than brawn?

Nah. "All right! How do I kick its ass?"

"It's not that simple. I fear that there is a greater subterfuge at work than just Zasalamel. Something is going on deeper than simply the cunning plan. You must be wary of---"

* * *

Jesus pressed another button on the keyboard. "There we go. The system restore should have everything good as new."

"Thanks, Jesus," said Klawk. "You're a lifesaver."

"Hey, what are friends for?"

* * *

As Zasalamel stood back up on the platform, he brushed the dust off his cloak and robe, looking around for his trusty scythe. It was on the other side of the raised altar, and he picked it up and used it to push the Maltese Ringworm back into place before climbing up.

"Okay," he said, tentatively looking about, "is everybody all right?"

A quick sweep of the shrine revealed that they all seemed to be intact. Cervantes was roaring something about the world rebooting before Li Long could tell him something…wait, wasn't Li Long dead? Zasalamel couldn't remember. Yoshimitsu and Maxi were holding him back, while Siegfried wailed in the background about abstraction making nonexistence and his past sins not entirely dissimilar and Mitsurugi threatened to gouge out his eyes. Meanwhile, Setsuka was looking dazed on the end of the altar, and he could swear she was rummaging through her kimono for something.

All right. Present and accounted for. Back to the cunning plan. "SILENCE!"

Everybody turned and looked up at him as he held the Improbability Drive high; a portal was already starting to form above his head. "You fools!" howled Zasalamel. "My cunning plan is coming to its climax, and soon this world will be at the mercy of the mighty Zasalamel!"

"We've got to stop him!" gasped Maxi. "Long Wang will be here any second—"

It was too late. The portal suddenly widened as a massive form thrust itself out through the dimensional fabric. It was a serpentine dragon, peach in hue and pissed-off in temperament. The beast's oddly spade-shaped head stretched towards the sky and roared, spewing out a gout of flame that was so hot it was a pure shade of white. His two stubby legs, arcs from the bottom of his length, emerged last from the portal and grasped it to hold him in place as the mighty dragon leaned down and peered into Hung Lo Shrine. The shrine itself had actually lifted off the ground from the sheer energy produced by the summoning, and was floating ten thousand feet in the air, which made this the single most phallic monument anyone in China had ever seen.

"**_I_**," roared the dragon, "**_AM LONG WANG, KING OF DRAGONS. WHO HAS SUMMONED ME?"_**

A puddle began to form from under the joints in Siegfried's leg armor.

"I have summoned you, mighty Long Wang!" Zasalamel shouted, although his shout was a bit tinny next to a roar that had shaken the entire Hung Lo Shrine and nearly knocked Yoshimitsu over. "The aura of power that emanates from you is necessary to activate my Improbability Drive, and I need you to breathe on it!"

"**_VERY WELL THEN_**," roared Long Wang, who wasn't actually all that angry, but can't do much other than roar when he talks. "**_HOLD IT UP AND I SHALL DO SO._**"

Zasalamel grinned as he hoisted the Improbability Drive upright, and Long Wang began to take in a mighty lungful of air so he could use his fire breath. The grand schemer knew that his device would absorb the destructive force of the dragon king's breath…but as Long Wang continued to breathe in, Zasalamel couldn't help but have a few doubts.

For one, the Improbability Drive wasn't glowing, like it should be. And for another…

"Looking a little concerned there…'Zassy-chan'."

Setsuka had a silver cube that looked just like his. The only difference was, hers was glowing.

Oh, shit. OHHHHHHH, _SHIT.

* * *

_

It was pouring rain outside the studio, but Tira finally managed to catch up to Nightmare on the street corner. "Nightmare!" she called, but he just walked on. "Niiiightmaaaare!"

After a second of fruitless calling, she stormed in front of him. "Don't you ignore me, you prima donna!" Tira snapped. "Look here, I'm trying to be concerned for your well-being, and you just go marching on in the rain, full of angst and douchery! What kind of a way is that to treat your friends, or your bandmates, or anyone, for that matter?"

"Eh?' asked Nightmare. "You were calling me?"

It was then that she realized he hadn't been ignoring her. It was just that the rain was playing the drum solo from "En-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" on his helmet and making it basically impossible for him to hear her from that distance.

"….Oh," Tira said, somewhat sheepishly. "Well, regardless, we need to talk."

* * *

"S-Setsuka?" stammered Zasalamel. "What are you doing?"

His "henchman" sneered in response. "Isn't it obvious, Zas? I'm taking over."

"What's with the sudden coherency? No 'hakama iron chef katamari wa, Zassy-chan' or anything?"

Setsuka took a couple steps closer, putting herself in the path of Long Wang's breath as well. "Yes, that's what you'd expect, isn't it," she mused. "Such a pity you bought into my act hook, line, and sinker; I thought the great Zasalamel might be less of a gullible fool."

"Act?"

"That's right," Setsuka grinned. "All the while that you thought you were in charge, I've been pulling the strings, making sure your idiotic 'cunning plan' came together so that I could reap the fruits of our labor---no, _my_ labor, seeing as how I'm the one who did all the work in the first place. And now it will all be mine. Long Wang will power up my ultimate weapon, and you will be incinerated along with the fake Improbability Drive I gave you."

Zasalamel would've sputtered with rage, if he hadn't noticed that Long Wang had just finished breathing in. His eyes went wide with horror. "No…Setsuka, wait, let's talk about this…I wasn't just going to use you and throw you away, you know me better than that…"

"Zas, you know as well as I do that's bullshit." She stepped up into the center of the altar, holding the real Improbability Drive high for the dragon's breath. "You never gave a damn about me outside of how I looked and how willing I was to perform menial tasks."

"You can't do this! I'm supposed to be the mastermind of the cunning plan!"

Setsuka opened her parasol to shield herself from the falling ash, and smiled. "Yeah, well, I guess you didn't think your cunning plan all the way through. Ja ne, motherfucker."

And so Long Wang spewed forth a mighty eruption of white flame that swept over the altar, blowing the heroes over onto their backs from the force of the king of dragons' breath. Setsuka stood throughout the entire blast, Improbability Drive held aloft like she was some kind of treacherous Statue of Liberty. When it cleared, her cube glowed like a neon building block, and Zasalamel was nowhere to be seen.

Cervantes was the first to stand, and he shook his fist at Setsuka. "You treacherous, landlubbing, hornswoggling, lollygagging, lily-livered, panty-waisted, scurvy-ridden, bilge-swilling, plank-walking wench! Put that Improbability Drive down this instant!"

"Why?" snapped Setsuka. "I outsmarted Zasalamel, so I earned it. It's mine."

"Because it's dangerous. And unethical. That thing could alter reality as we know it!"

"So is that supposed to mean that just because it could be dangerous, I can't use it? Are you trying to impede the scientific progress of society?"

"Look, woman," snarled a flustered Cervantes, "what's with all the counter-questions? I didn't expect a friggin' Spanish Inquisition—"

_KABOOM._ The entire west wall of the Hung Lo Shrine exploded, turning into fragments that scattered out over the countryside miles below, as an armada in red robes stormed through with their swords and crossbows.

"_NOBODY_ expects the Spanish Inquisition!" shrieked Cassandra.

"Oh, god, not you people." Setsuka glared. "Couldn't you and the vampire have kept each other distracted a little longer?"

"I'm right here," huffed Raphael, who was being held at bayonet and crossbow-point by Inquisition troops. Talim was next to him, straitjacketed, cuffed, and gagged so she couldn't get loose and devour the organs of any more soldiers (the first incident had been enough to sway them towards this decision). "You needn't talk about me as if I'm not around, you boor."

"Mmmphmmmmph!" snarled Talim.

"Silence!" yelled Cervantes. "Now is not the time for your tomfoolery!"

"Silence!" yelled Cassandra. "The likes of you cannot dictate policy to the Spanish Inquisition!"

"Silence!" yelled Mitsurugi. "Your high-pitched, grating voices anger me!"

"Silence!" yelled Raphael. "Mere mortals are not fit to speak in the presence of a Nosferatu!"

"Silence!" yelled Setsuka. "I am the one with the Improbability Drive, and therefore I am in control of the situation!"

"**_SILENCE!_**" roared Long Wang.

There was silence.

"**_I HAVE ABOUT HAD IT UP TO HERE WITH YOU PEOPLE ARGUING. IF I AM FINISHED PERFORMING MY TASK, I SHALL LEAVE---_**"

"Not so fast, Long Wang!" Setsuka cried, brandishing the Improbability Drive. "You shall destroy these fools for me, on the pain of certain death!"

"**_HO HO HO HO HO_**," rumbled the dragon king. "**_ONE SUCH AS YOU CANNOT THREATEN ME WITH VIOLENCE. WHAT COULD YOU DO?_**"

"Uh, Long Wang," began Yoshimitsu, "perhaps this isn't such a wise idea…"

A gleam came over Setsuka's eyes as she held up the cube, which was now shining fiercely. "Allow me to introduce you," and here she smiled triumphantly, "to the Improbability Meltdown."

* * *

"Look," Tira began, "it's not that I don't like your music, all right? I just want to put together the best material we can for the show at the Lakeside. Because…well, because I want the best for us. For you, especially, because somebody as special as you deserves it."

Nightmare was taken aback. "You mean…"

"Mmhmm. So what do you say we go back to the studio and get back to work?"

"I think," Nightmare said as he leaned in close, "that I have a better idea."

And then they kissed. Never mind that it was thirty degrees out and the rain was absolutely pouring, or that Nightmare was wearing a full-plate metal visor over his mouth, they KISSED, goddammit. And all was well at that second.

The next second, a wave of pure improbability swept over the entire city with a thundrous _WHOOSH_.

* * *

Kilik took his attention away from his kata for a second to look up at the horizon. "Hey, Xianghua?" he called.

"Yes?"

"Is it just me, or is the sunrise moving particularly fast tod—"

_WHOOSH.

* * *

_

"Well, that was marvelous," panted Ivy, lighting up a cigarette. "Pumpkin, we've really got to try that more often."

Voldo didn't respond. He was too worn out, and besides, he wasn't supposed to speak to her unless spoken to.

"Oh, bloody hell," Ivy continued. "Did you see where I put my riding crop, because I don't want to have to go out and buy another one; those things are expensive, and we're not even using them the way they're supposed to—"

_WHOOSH.

* * *

_

Olcadan climbed out of the water and stood up on the docks. He shook his feathers off, which sent water splattering over the wooden boards of the pier, and grinned. Wow, what a swim that had been.

_WHOOSH_.

Wait a minute, something wasn't right…He peered over the side of the dock and caught a glimpse of his head. It was normal again! He was human!

"The curse is broken!" Olcadan rejoiced, dancing all over the pier. "I'm human again!"

_WHOOSH_.

"Oh, son of a bitch."

* * *

A couple things, since this chapter is pretty important. First and foremost, fans of any characters involved, don't get upset and stop reading. _Nobody_ is dead (that includes Zasalamel) except Necrid, and nobody like Necrid anyway. However, the world HAS been altered rather drastically as the result of Setsuka's Kefka-ish actions, and they're going to have to find a way to restore it back to normal.

The beginning of which is in the next chapter. Kilik, Xianghua, Mitsurugi, and Siegfried wake up in Luxembourg with a familiar face and one big, animal-head-wearing barbarian with an even bigger bludgeoning object in Chapter Eleven: "Please, Hammer, Don't Hurt Em"!


	11. Please Hammer Don't Hurt 'Em

Disclaimer: A hammer and a saw are sitting in a bar. Just then, a wrench walks up to them with a drill beside him and says "HEY GUYS, YOU KNOW THE DRILL, RIGHT?"

And if you don't know the drill by now, then you sadden me, but here we go anyway. Namco owns Soul Calibur. Bungie owns Master Chief. I own Long Wang, but go ahead and use him in whatever, I'm not stingy.

This chapter's title is easily my favorite so far, even without getting the reference.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Please, Hammer, Don't Hurt 'Em 

The world slowly began to return to clarity as Mitsurugi straightened up and opened his eyes. "What…where am I?" He checked at his hip to make sure Shishi-Oh was still in its sheath, then realized something was amiss. "Oh no! Where are you?"

On his other side, the rubble shifted and Siegfried sat up, dazed and somewhat banged up. "Urgh," he moaned, getting his partner's attention "I'm right here, don't worry."

"Oh, thank God," said Mitsurugi, rushing over. "I thought I'd lost you!"

"Wow, I didn't know you cared so much about—" Siegfried's eyes followed the ronin as he rushed _past_ his supine form and picked up his sake jug, lovingly cradling it. "Oh."

With a relieved sigh, Mitsurugi placed the jug back on his hip. "What are you doing still lying on the ground, you wuss?" he snapped. "Get up! We've got to figure out where the hell we are. And what's going on, for that matter. I was just about to flip out and commit ultra mega mass homicide when there was a _WHOOSH_ and then bam, here we are! Where'd everybody go?"

"Much like my sins," said Siegfried as he staggered to his feet, "we seem to be scattered far and wide. I guess the Improbability Meltdown shot us all the way over here, wherever 'here' may be."

His partner was already perched atop the hill next to them, and shaded his eyes from the morning sun to survey the distance. "There's a pretty decent-sized gathering of people up ahead," he observed. "Wanna go kick some ass until we find out where we are?"

"I think this can be solved by just asking."

"Shut up, emo boy."

* * *

Chai Xianghua awoke to find herself hanging upside down in a tree. Lucidity, of course, dictated that she free herself, and so a couple seconds of struggling dropped her from the limb, where she landed on her feet with nimble grace. Ten years of acrobatics in the Emperor's guard hadn't gone to waste, it seemed. 

"Kilik?" she called. "Kilik, are you still here?"

"Yeah," came a voice from the woods, "but I can't find Kali-Yuga."

"Really? What happened?"

The young man emerged, a puzzled look on his face and a standard-issue plasma rifle in his hands. "I dunno. One minute, I was practicing out in the field, and the next, I'm waking up in the forest with the weirdest musket I've ever seen. I wonder what happened to Kali-Yuga."

* * *

"Where the hell is my blaster rifle?" screamed Master Chief as he sprinted through Blood Gulch, a horde of Covenant hot on his heels. "I can't use a bo staff!"

* * *

"Maybe somebody in town found it and brought it back," Xianghua suggested. "We ought to go look around and see if the locals know anything." 

"Sounds like a plan. Maybe they can tell us just what's going on."

They started out of the woods, ascending a hilltop, and looked down over the gathering of people congregated about half a mile away. It was not, in fact, a town as Xianghua had thought, but instead some kind of important social event that warranted the setting up of several improvised structures. The most prominent of said structures was in the middle of the group; it was a forty-square-foot plexiglass cube, around which most of these people were gathering. Either this had suddenly become a holy place for Muslims, or there was a racquetball tournament about to take place.

* * *

Today, all things considered, had been a good day for Aeon Calcos, Attorney at Law. 

Just yesterday, he'd finished up any business he had at the firm (Seong, Calcos, and Vercci), then set out to make it to this spot in Mongolia for the tournament. However, just as he'd started off towards the place, there'd been a _WHOOSH_, and what luck! He was ten feet away from here, and a full day in advance. It'd given him the opportunity to shower up and practice a bit before heading into the first round, which he'd dominated. Along with the second and third rounds.

Also, his briefcase had inexplicably transformed into a four-foot halibut, but halibut was good when smoked and served with tartar sauce, so he had no complaints.

Mr. Calcos took a couple swings with his racqet, prepping himself for the finals. He'd swept the last three rounds, but this was no time to get overconfident. After all, he'd found that the best time to pounce in the courtroom was when the opposition was sure of victory, one of the reasons he'd won so many cases. It wouldn't do at all to become complacent and have the same happen to him.

Also, his opponent in the finals was the biggest man he'd ever seen. This hugely-muscled individual had gotten a bye through the first round, won the second round four games to one, and achieved victory in the third through forfeit when his opponent scored a point via a questionable call and the man pummeled him into gravy. Secretly, though he was not a man given to speculation and baseless rumor, Mr. Calcos found himself wondering if the man was even human. The elephant head he wore over his face, for all anyone knew, might be his actual head.

"But there's no time to think about that now," he thought as the air horn sounded, signaling for the players to head into the court.

No, the time had come, the lizard knew, to talk of sports and things. Of racquetball and scoring goals, and service receivings. And why this guy was freaking huge, and whether he could swing.

Calloo, callay, he'd win today, like cabbages and kings.

* * *

"Haven't seen any staves around here, no," said the Wise Old Man, shaking his head. "I just came down here to watch some good old racquetball. It's been our only entertainment since that day the Great Mighty Setsuka took over the world." 

"What?" asked Kilik. "When did _that_ happen? How long were we unconscious?"

"Well, it was right about noon yesterday."

"Oh. So what's this about the Great Mighty Setsuka?"

The old man raised an eyebrow. "You don't know about the Great Mighty Setsuka? Where've YOU been lately?"

"We told you," snapped Xianghua, "unconscious."

"Oh yeah. The Great Mighty Setsuka was the one who caused those strange waves across the planet. None can stand against her limitless power, for all of us fear that the Light of Judgment will be turned upon us next."

"Well," said Kilik," at least now we know who's responsible for this."

A cheer went up from the crowd, and the old man clapped his hands as he saw what was happening in the court. "Ah, that Calcos," he chortled, "he's got it tied two to two. He'll win this set yet, mark my words."

Kilik and Xianghua craned their necks to get a better view of the racquetball court. The giant with the elephant mask (the announcer called him Rock) was evidently more comfortable using his massive hammer instead of a racquet, and ricocheted his shots off the walls of the court with such velocity it seemed that they would be impossible to return. However, Aeon Calcos was no slouch on the court himself, and return them he did, with a calculated precision that proved to be the polar opposite of Rock's wild, furious swings. For every point Rock scored, Mr. Calcos scored two, and achievement of the two-point margin was no problem; he won twelve to five to take the set home, three games to two.

A whoop went up from the crowd, most of whom were either fans of the lizardman or terrified of Rock, and who were quite thrilled to see him come out with the win. He raised his racquet over his head in triumph, and the referee handed him a massive gold trophy, and the victory music from Final Fantasy (FFI, I mean, the one with the _good_ victory music that had that little mambo thing going after the intro) played in the background, and all was well.

Just kidding.

The gigantic hammer slammed down right where Mr. Calcos had been standing; he'd stepped to the side just in time to avoid becoming paste. "You miserable reptile!" shouted Rock. "You cheated!"

"And how, pray tell, did I cheat?" asked Mr. Calcos, ever the master debater.

"You just DID! I don't know how, but you must've! You must've used some sneaky underhanded lizardman mind-meld to disrupt my concentration and score the victory! Well, I'm not going to stand for this!"

He raised the mighty hammer again, but suddenly another cheer went up from the crowd, and Kilik and Xianghua were both next to the lizardman, weapons at the ready. "Hold it right there," said Kilik, waving the plasma rifle. "Mr. Calcos here won this fair and square, so don't you go being a sore loser about it."

"And you're going to stop me?" snorted Rock. "You two barely reach my kneecap."

Xianghua, as always, decided she had the best course of action in mind. "All right, we warned you! Kilik, blast him!"

With a mighty war cry, Kilik complied and pulled the trigger. A barrage of plasma erupted out of one end and cut a white-hot swath through the air. Unfortunately, he was pointing the wrong end at Rock, and so Kilik only succeeded in frying the Wise Old Man, who was standing behind them. "Whoops," he offered sheepishly, turning the gun around, and fired again. The barrel merely fizzed; it seemed the power cell had run out.

"Ho, ho, ho," Rock boomed. "That's all you've got? Take this!"

Conveniently, an explosion of light chose that moment to take place in the middle of the court.

* * *

"I can't go on!" groaned Siegfried, collapsing. "The guilt of the past weighs me down on this hill like a fifteen-ton safe from Acme Inc. Leave me, noble comrade, and—" 

"Look, we've only got a couple more minutes to go," said Mitsurugi. "Just drag your lazy ass down the hill and we're there, all right?" Something at the racquetball court caught his eyes, and he squinted. "Ehh?...holy shit! It's Setsuka!"

"Where?" asked Siegfried, suddenly very animated as he sprang up next to the ronin. They looked, and sure enough, there she was in the midst of all the people. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I'm thinking it's time we kicked some ass," Mitsurugi declared.

"Um, who's that?" asked Kilik.

"I," shouted Setsuka, lowering her parasol, "am the Great Mighty Setsuka, ruler of the world and everyone in it! How dare you defy my laws and hold a gathering of humans without express consent?"

"There are laws against that?" asked Mr. Calcos.

"Yes! I made one just now, so there! And furthermore—"

A "HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" rang out through the air as Mitsurugi and Siegfried leapt from the top of the hill and brought down their swords on Setsuka's form…only for both Shishi-Oh and Requiem to pass through her body without making a scratch. The two landed hard and turned to see the damage they'd done, but were horrified when it turned out that they'd manage to do absolutely nothing.

"What?" roared a surprised and frustrated Mitsurugi.

"You fools!" Setsuka leered with a flourish. "Did you seriously think I'd actually condescend to come out and mingle with the commoners? This isn't my real body, it's just an illusion!"

"You stole that trick from me!" shouted Victor von Doom, who'd been turned into a squirrel. "Stole it, I say!" He clung to a tree and shook his squirrely fist.

"So I see the Improbability Meltdown didn't vaporize you two," the Great Mighty Setsuka continued. "It just set you down a couple dozen miles away. How improbable."

"What have you done with Cervantes and those other two guys?" demanded Mitsurugi.

"I dunno. As long as you were all gone when the smoke cleared, that's all that mattered to me. Oh, and the meltdown turned Long Wang into a poodle." She produced a white toy poodle, its fur trimmed neatly into symmetrical plumes, and hugged it. "Isn't he just the cutest?"

Behind the veil of cuteness, Long Wang's tiny brown poodle eyes stared out at the group with an expression of abject horror. _Help me,_ they said. _Get me the fuck out of here. PLEASE._

"Wow, you're even more of a monster than I was," declared Siegfried in awe. "Turning Long Wang into a poodle?"

"Silence! You may have survived the first wave of pure improbability, but this one will at the very least mildly inconvenience you! Take this!"

_FWOOSH_.

* * *

"Once again," asked Mitsurugi as everybody staggered to their feet, "is everybody all right?" 

Siegfried checked himself over. "My body is fine. My soul remains shattered from the atrocities of—"

"Good, you're all right. What about you three?"

"As always," said Mr. Calcos from the seat of the Ferrari that had materialized under him, "I am doing fine. However, I can't help but notice that I am now seated in a vehicle. How very improbable."

"It's a nice one, too," noted Xianghua, who had made sure the Soul Calibur was still in her possession. "Kilik, what about you?"

"I can't explain it," Kilik said bewilderedly, "but Kali-Yuga's back."

"Strange. I wonder what happened to the gun."

* * *

Master Chief turned from the sheer cliff face of Blood Gulch as his plasma rifle materialized in his hands again. "YESSSS!" Things were finally looking his way. He brought the sights to bear with the first of the many Elites dashing towards him, and pulled the trigger. 

Nothing happened. It was empty.

With a loud "What the hell?", he took off into the distance again. Perhaps that bounty hunter he'd run into really did have a good idea with the whole "magic arm cannon that never runs out of ammo" gimmick.

* * *

"So who are you?" asked Mitsurugi. "I know Mr. Calcos here by reputation, but I'm not familiar with you two." 

"I'm Kilik," said Kilik, taking a bow, "and this is Xianghua. We're normally from north of here, but it seems we got swept out by the same thing that got you."

"We're—"

Siegfried cut him off. "Siegfried von Schtauffen and Heishiro Mitsurugi, collectively known as My Tears Flow Like Blood-Red—"

SMACK. Siegfried wobbled. "Never say that again," glared Mitsurugi.

"So that Setsuka woman," said Xianghua, quickly stepping in to defuse any problems, "is she the one that's committed all these heinous acts?"

"It's a long story," said Mitsurugi. "Let's go over it while we move. We have to get to Hung Lo Shrine; that Improbability Drive has to be stopped."

As they piled in Mr. Calcos's Ferrari and sped off, only Rock remained at the spot. The improbability wave had changed him from a man wearing an elephant mask into, ironically enough, an elephant wearing a man mask. "Hey," he trumpeted, "what about me?"

Only the sounds of crickets answered him.

"Aw, shit, guys. Shit. Bangoo's not gonna be happy about this."

* * *

In the next chapter, SOMETHING ENTIRELY DIFFERENT. Cervantes, all by his lonesome, finds himself in Athens. When the Adrian is sunk, he has to find another means of transportation, but a certain GOD WARRIORRRRR blocks the way. All that and more, in Chapter Twelve, "My Big Fat Greek Shipwreck". 


	12. My Big Fat Greek Shipwreck

We officially enter crossover status with this chapter, courtesy of the Improbability Drive.

Disclaimer: Namco owns Soul Calibur. Remedy, SCEA, and Nintendo own our guest appearances, in that order.

My sincere yet half-hearted apologies to Marguerite Perrin for my portrayal of Sophitia.

* * *

Chapter Twelve: My Big Fat Greek Shipwreck 

_They say the last thing you see before you die is a flash of light. An instant stretching out into an eternity, with all the time in the world to think of what could've been, what went wrong…before it's all cut short. The trouble was, when the flash ended, I was still alive._

_I shouldn't have been. They were all dead. Woden, Vinnie, Winterson, Vlad…Mona. I thought, when I saw that flash of light, that I was on my way to join them, that my life had been cut short like a book slamming shut right before the climax._

_No…not before it. I'd had my fill of the charnel house they called life, all the killing and mayhem and blood like one big morbid enchilada. So I guess I was hoping I could allow myself to quietly fade away, not giving a damn about the world I left behind, and settle down for a mildly pleasant eternity. _

_Boy, was I ever wrong._

_When I woke up that night, I was on a dock outside the most backwater place I'd ever seen. Looks like Scottie'd beamed me down to the wrong part of history, wherever I was. The streets were bustling with grinning locals; I guess nobody ever told them bad things come out at night. If their presence wasn't enough to make me sure they had a screw loose, their clothes were. I'd think the Renaissance Fair had come to town if some of the women weren't vaguely attractive._

_I didn't know what the hell was going on, but I intended to find out. There was a ship approaching the docks I was on, a derelict. It wasn't just abandoned, though; it was a goddamned Spanish pirate ship. Like a zombie from an eon long gone, here it came, shambling towards me._

_I figured I'd wait it out. And guard my brain, in case it was hungry.

* * *

_

When Cervantes came to, the first thing he was aware of was that he was on the _Adrian_, which was a bit puzzling because he'd left the ship docked when they went to confront Zasalamel. He looked around him, and was surprised to find that not only was he aboard his ship, but it had been transported to an inlet that he didn't recognize. The sheer face of a mountain stretched up to the left of the _Adrian_, and to the right the inlet tapered off into a harbor and the opening to a city.

From the architecture, he could guess he was somewhere in the Mediterranean. There was no doubt that the Improbability Meltdown had caused this, but had it taken him full circle? Was he back in Italy, like he was when he met Yoshimitsu?

And where _was_ Yoshimitsu? Where was _everybody_, for that matter?

His only hope for the time being was to pull into the harbor and get some information out of the locals. This world still needed saving, dammit; that Setsuka woman couldn't be allowed to run rampant with that kind of unlimited power. Cervantes had to find his allies and rally them to go back and defeat her, and to find them, he'd have to figure out where he was. So without further ado, he turned the _Adrian_ towards the docks, when suddenly—

"Captain Cervantes! So, you've finally come back for more!"

He whirled in astonishment, and standing on the deck was a familiar skirt-clad blonde. No, not the tavern wench he'd had Ivy with, it was Sophitia Alexandra! The woman who'd shattered his Soul Edge and sent him to the underworld before! Cervantes felt a twinge of anger race up his spine. "You!" he barked. "I've a score to settle with you!"

"You were supposed to stay dead." Sophitia brought the Omega Sword to bear, pointing it at the dread pirate. "Your ungodly kind were not meant to trouble this world any---"

"Cut the rambling, you scurvy dog!" shouted Cervantes. "Why did you seek me out again?

"Because you aren't allowed to exist!" snapped the Greek shieldmaiden. "You're ungodly! Everything about you is ungodly!"

"Woman, is there ANYONE in your family who isn't a religious fanatic of some sort?"

"Don't disparage my relatives! You have no right, you're not a Hephaesti_AAAAAANNN!_"

"Augh! Don't screech like that!"

"You deserved to be sent to the underworld! You were tampering with _DARK-SIDED STUFF!_" screamed Sophitia, waving the sword about wildly as she stamped back and forth. "GARGOYLES? _PSYCHICS?_"

"You're not making any sense."

"Your ungodly ears can't make sense of it! Get the hell off my ship, in Zeus's name I pray, amen."

"Now just a minute!" yelled Cervantes, drawing Acheron and Nirvana from their sheaths. "This is MY ship, and I'll be keelhauled before I'll let anybody order me off it! Have at you, wench!"

They dashed forward, and the two swords clanged together in a shower of sparks.

* * *

His eyes squeezed shut, drawing worry lines across the pale flesh of his tattooed forehead. The air was thin up at this altitude, to the point that it stung his lungs just to breathe, but it was all insignificant compared to the agony in his soul. 

"The gods of Olympus have abandoned me…"

As one, his fists clenched until they shook, sending shivers up the chains embedded into his forearms. He took a step forward, lingering over the edge.

"Now…there is no hope."

And so Kratos cast himself from the second-highest mountain in all of Greece (the highest having been changed into a statue of Aldous Huxley by Setsuka's overzealous use of the Improbability Drive). After ten years, it would all be over.

* * *

Cervantes brought his swords to bear and stepped back, keeping Nirvana's pistol trained on Sophitia's circling form. "You won't take me again, Grecian wench! Let's go another round!" he shouted, preparing to spring forward. 

Her sandals scraped across the deckboards of the Adrian as she circled the pirate captain. "It would be my pleasure to send you back where you came from! I'm a _GOD WARRIORRRR_, and---"

"…….AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGH……."

Both of them looked up. "What's that sound?" Sophitia wondered.

A couple seconds later, Kratos came crashing down on her head, sending them both through the deck in an explosion of wooden shards. They didn't stop there, penetrating the hull as well and plummeting to the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea.

Cervantes took a second to think about this. On the one hand, his worst enemy had just been conveniently removed by a screaming red blur. On the other, the ship had already tilted and was halfway underwater.

Goddammit, he was going to have to swim to shore.

* * *

_As always, Lady Luck was a fifty-cent whore, and I was fresh out of quarters._

_Looked like whoever was in that decrepit boat wasn't sailing first class any longer. They must've hit something, because the ship was keeling over like a man who's had one too many. In a couple minutes, it'd probably break apart and sink. The Titanic of Middle of Nowhere, 1600._

_Terrific. If I couldn't ask them, I was going to have to go into that freakshow of a city and finding out where I was from them. Information gathering's never been my forte, except when it's done with the universal language of gunshot wounds._

"_Shit…looks like I don't have a choice."_

_I might've spoken too soon. Somebody'd dove over the side as the ship went down, and was swimming towards me. The survivor instinct is something I've always appreciated, seeing as how I've had to rely on it just as much as my trusty slow-motion leap. Maybe this guy could help me out when he got to the docks. But just in case he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat, I had my nine in my hand and a whole bag full of oxycontin that said he couldn't take me down.

* * *

_

With a deep breath, Cervantes heaved himself up onto the dock. "Son of a submariner!" he snarled. "Stupid 'god warrior' sunk my ship and left me stranded in Athens!" At least, he assumed he was in Athens. Where else would Sophitia be hanging around?

His attention was drawn to the man walking steadily towards him. Cervantes, dripping wet and pissed off, was only further puzzled by the approach of this strange-looking individual. He wore slacks and a dress shirt with a tie, but a leather jacket took the place of a sport coat. A Beretta 9mm rested in his right hand.

_As I approached the man who'd climbed up onto the docks, I was finally able to get a good look at him. To put it nicely, it seemed he'd been ambushed by an army wielding ugly sticks and beaten within an inch of his life, then buried under the ugly tree itself. On top of that, his entire body smelled like whiskey, the cheap kind that you either drown a regrettable past in or suffocate one with its overbearing smell, so it can't catch up with you. Somehow, I wasn't entirely sure if he'd be much help._

"It's rum, not whiskey!" snapped Cervantes. "And why are you narrating out loud?"

"_Sorry." I'd extend a hand to him, but experience told me that these kinds of people were like hungry jackals; they were always looking for a reason to strike, and also got set off by sudden movements. "Detective Max Payne, NYPD. I heard you mention Athens…"_

"Yeah, Athens," replied the dread pirate. "Its village idiot just sank my ship out there, and I've got places to be. You know a place I can hijack another one?"

_Obviously, he'd mistaken me for a local. "Look, buddy, I don't even know why I'm here. The last thing I remember, they were taking me in after the shootout at the manor, and then there's a flash of light and boom, here I stand. So I don't think I'm the best person to ask for help with Grand Theft Galleon."_

"A flash of light?" Cervantes scratched the back of his head. "Ah! You must've been brought here by the Improbability Meltdown! That'd explain why you don't seem to fit in. Hey, you should come with me. When we stop Setsuka, I'll see if I can send you home."

_It was a gamble. By agreeing to go with this man, I was pulling the trigger on a revolver pointed at my own head, without even knowing how many bullets were in the chambers. I was putting my life in the hands of a man I'd only just met, and one who looked like he'd been around the block a few times. It was a deadly game of Russian—_

"Look, are you coming or not?"

"_I don't have much of a choice," I answered. "Let's go find a ride."_

"You know," said Cervantes, "I bet you're not the only person who's been displaced. There's got to be others who were transported here by the Meltdown, or the Merton if you were to ask Ted Woolsey, and it's entirely possible somebody else might've gotten switched between dimensions."

As if on cue, a shadow fell over Athens (this was possible at night because the Improbability Meltdown had turned the stars into suns, thus wiping out the entire population of Latvia with skin cancer), and everyone simultaneously looked up to see the last thing they were expecting: an airship. A massive, wooden ship in the sky.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Cervantes.

_I slid the magazine into my nine like the yin clicking into the yang, completing the Tao of Asskicking. "I'm thinking we found our ship."

* * *

_

Roy Koopa had no earthly idea where he was, but damned if he wasn't going to conquer it.

The last thing he remembered, he'd been blowing things up in the Mushroom Kingdom, and then there was a flash of light and he'd been blowing up some city he didn't recognize. Oh well. Somewhere in his walnut-sized brain, he reasoned that this was probably a trick. Yeah, a trick. The Mario Bros must've changed the appearance of the kingdom so he'd get confused and leave it alone, but he wasn't stupid. No, he'd just continue the bombardment.

"Continue the assault!" Roy ordered. "Unleash the Bob-Ombs!"

He didn't have time to see that order through to completion, however, because as they raised the anchor, two unfamiliar individuals flew up with it onto the deck. Roy stared. "Dammit! Why does that happen EVERY TIME we raise the anchor?"

"We're taking the ship," said Cervantes. "Hand it over peacefully, and you can go."

"Like hell you're taking it," snapped the Koopaling. "I'd like to see you try."

_With a sigh, I unholstered my gun and pointed it in that freakish turtle-thing's face, bringing his entire existence to a halt as he stared down its barrel. "All right, Leonardo," I said, "my name is Man With A Gun To Your Forehead, and if we aren't leaving on a jet plane very, very soon, your skull's gonna be so much Jackson Pollock."_

Roy's eyes widened. "Uh...OK, you can have it."

"Good," Cervantes grinned, "because you won't be needing it where you're going."

* * *

Sophitia floundered to the surface, sputtering with frustration. "What?" she screeched. "How did that ungodly pirate overcome me?" 

"It seems," replied Kratos as he surfaced, "that my falling from the sky interrupted your battle and sunk the ship."

"What? You bastard! You ruined everything!"

He ducked a slap. "Shut up, shrine whore! Surrender your maidenhead to the mighty Kratos, and---"

"…..AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGHHHHH…….."

"Do you hear something overhead?"

* * *

Cervantes dusted off his hands, having finished throwing Roy overboard. "Whew. He was heavier than he looked. Anyway…" He turned and manned the steering wheel. "Onward! To Hung Lo Shrine!" 

_As the flying boat in the sky set off towards wherever the hell it was we were going, I couldn't help but wonder if we could change what was coming. Or if we were doomed to a straight, linear path, a one-way single lane on the superhighway of fate from which we couldn't---_

"Can you please not narrate while I'm steering?"

"_Sorry."

* * *

_

Next: Yoshimitsu, Cassandra, Talim, and Raphael are the single most unlikely party ever. And they will not miss a chance to remind each other of it. An appearance by the Koreans, plus someone previously thought to be gone, in Chapter Thirteen, "We, the King of All Cosmos".


	13. We, The King of All Cosmos

I know there's an impressive-sized fanbase for the Koreans (meaning Hwang, Mi Na, and Yunseong), and so they play an important role in this chapter. This means the only characters who haven't shown up yet are Abyss and Taki, both of whom will appear before this thing is over. Take heart.

Disclaimer: It's mine! It's all mine! No, it's not. :( Namco owns Soul Calibur and the magically adhesive weapon of mass destruction. Much love to R. Lee Ermey, too.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: We, The King Of All Cosmos

"Sir, Second Infantry Division, reporting for duty, sir!" yelled Private Stash of the Galactic Space Marines. Behind him, a line of Space Marines clicked their heels and stood at attention, rifle-arms at the ready.

The landscape of New Gettysburg was a barren wasteland behind the walls of their fortress, stretching out as far as the eye could see. A star-studded canopy of darkness rested over the horizon, but it wasn't necessarily night. On a space colony, it was pretty difficult to tell what time it was on Earth. But the Terran Federation made due.

"Good morning, maggots," came a bark from the other side of the yard, and the line of Marines snapped to an even more stiff posture as a burly soldier in heavy plate armor and a lifted visor came striding out. "I am Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your new senior instructor." (Here he spat a wad of tobacco on the ground and gave them all the evil eye.) "Because I am hard, you will not like me, but the more you hate me, the stronger you will become. Is that clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!" shouted the line of Marines.

"What was that?"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

"You, Private," yelled Sergeant Hartman, addressing Private Stash. "What's your name?"

"Sir, Stash, sir!"

"Private Stash, do you suck dick?"

"Sir, no sir!"

"Are you a peter puffer?"

"Sir, no sir!"

"Bullshit, Private, I bet you could suck a power cell through a Protoss warp gate!"

"Sir, no sir!"

"Are you disagreeing with me, Private Stash---"

A chorus of inhuman screeches and roars went up outside the walls, cutting off Sergeant Hartman, who turned to see a sentry stagger through the front gates and slam them behind him. His armor was gashed and melted in several places, and through his visor, his face was streaked with dirt and blood. "SIR!" he screamed. "IT'S THE ZERG! THE ZERG ARE---"

With that, the gates of the base collapsed behind him, and the screaming man was swallowed up in a wave of mutated purple flesh. A horde of doglike beasts swarmed into the yard, bristling with fangs and teeth. They came not by the hundreds but by the _thousands_, and as a seemingly infinite wave began to pour in, the Space Marines took up the offensive. They riddled the incoming attack with bullets from their rifles, but even a hundred of the monsters killed was only a dent in the wave that quickly swept over the yard. Flesh ripped and tore, and blood spilled every which way as screams echoed over the yard, only drowned out by the sound of "Kekekekeke!"…

* * *

"You Zergling-rushing BITCH!" screamed Hwang Sung Kyung, slamming down his keyboard. "I'd only just gotten my barracks up, and you come charging through the front door with an army of those things!"

"Ha, whatever," replied Hong Yunseong. "You're just pissed because you got owned." He sat back in his rolly-chair and wiped the dust off the monitor of his iMac. "Wanna go another round?"

"Not with you, I don't," snorted Hwang. He stood, walking away from the computer and getting a Red Bull. "You're ridiculous. I don't see how Mi Na beats you every time."

"She most certainly does NOT—"

"She most certainly does," interrupted Seong Mi Na, coming in from the living room with a _PC Gamer_ in one hand and her zanbatou in the other (which makes for an amusing visual image, if you think about it). "And don't you ever forget it, kiddo."

"So how bout it, Mi Na?" asked Yunseong. "You care to test that statement out and play a round, since Hwang's too scared of my mad skills?"

"Works for me." Mi Na plopped down in another rolly-chair and swiveled to face the computer. "Same deal as last time?"

"Whatever."

"Yeah, you're whatever-ing now. Just be sure to get in between the toes this time, because you're getting sloppy—"

Hwang cut into their exchange, throwing away his now-empty soft drink can. "Hey Mi Na, did you check up on those guys we found while you were out there?"

A nod. "Yeah. The one with the sword and the mask woke up a couple minutes ago. I gave him a Red Bull and told him to head on in here when he felt up to walking around a little," answered the girl. She turned to look over at the door. "The whole group was pretty banged up, y'know. They look like they got in some kind of fight…"

"Hello?" came Yoshimitsu's voice. He stepped into the doorframe, and when Mi Na waved to him, he entered, sipping his Red Bull. "Ahhh, hi there. I wanted to express my gratitude for you three looking out for my welfare."

"It was nothing," dismissed Hwang. "We're always glad to help out somebody. Besides, you four kinda materialized in the middle of our LAN party, so we didn't have much of a choice."

"Four? Who were the other three?"

Mi Na counted them off on her fingers. "Well, lessee…it was you, the fruity-looking vampire, this cute little girl, and a woman with more crucifixes on her than I've ever seen. We put them in the bedroom, but there was only enough room for three, so I figured you could sleep on the couch till you regained consciousness."

"Uh, in that case," said Yoshimitsu, eyes widening, "perhaps it would be best if you separated them."

"Why is that?" Yunseong asked.

_BOOOOOOM._ An explosion from the other side of the house rocked them.

"Because when they wake up, they won't be too glad to see each other."

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, or "Tower of Setsuka" as it was formally called, the Great Mighty Setsuka, Empress Of The Known Universe, was scheming from the comforts of her large and overly extravagant throne.

"Hmmmm," she mused to herself, stroking Long Wang's fluffy white fur, "I need a weapon of mass destruction to carry out my next phase of the cunning plan. One so powerful, so devastating, that nothing will be able to stand up against it."

Long Wang simply whined in response. How the mighty had fallen.

"I need a meteor," said Setsuka intently. "A gigantic meteor. Or some kind of cylindrical object that can plummet from the sky. Dammit, if only I were the King of All Cosmos, then I could…"

She smacked herself on the forehead.

"What am I talking about? I have the Improbability Drive; I AM the King of All Cosmos. Or, uh, We ARE the King of All Cosmos. Or….yeah. Anyway!"

Setsuka leapt to her feet (displacing Long Wang, who scurried across the room and retreated to lick himself in dismay), dashed to the balcony of the tower, and raised the Improbability Drive (which had, somewhat improbably, turned into a sword not entirely dissimilar to the Soul Edge). She concentrated, focusing her will into a single command and willing something highly unlikely into existence by the sole virtue that it was highly unlikely to occur.

A tiny, colorful sphere fell from the skies over Korea.

* * *

Cassandra sailed head over heels through the air, spiraling from the impact of Raphael's mighty vampiric blow. She caught herself on the wall, however (having her reflexes heightened by being a homicidal maniac), and kicked off it to resume her overhanded swings. The holy sword cut a swath through the air, sending up a shower of sparks as Raphael parried its slices out of the air with his rapier.

Having had enough with simply exchanging strikes, she decided to take a shot at ending the fight and leapt forward, bringing her holy sword down at his skull. In a remarkable display of athleticism, Raphael pirouetted to one side, letting the blade come down on thin air, then lashed out twice with a twirling motion. Cassandra smashed both strikes out of the way with her shield, then immediately backed up to get some ground between them. Raphael did the same, rather than press forward, although it seemed he was preparing to follow up with another assault…

"Hey," came a sleepy protest, "do you have to do that here?" They both looked across the room to see Talim sit up in the bed and yawn drowsily. "And where am I, anyway?"

Raphael gaped. "She can talk?"

"Yeah, of course I can talk. Who're you two?"

"Uh…you don't remember?" asked Cassandra.

"Remember what? A couple seconds ago I was on a beach, and now I'm waking up with people fighting ten feet away. And I think somewhere in the middle there was a vampire."

"That was me," explained Raphael, "and this is Paladin Cassandra, the sanctimonious lapdog of the Catholic Church."

"Silence, undead," snapped Cassandra. "You'll soon learn not to speak so of the Inquisition. Have at you, Nancy."

Fortunately, before they could resume fighting, Yoshimitsu rushed in, accompanied by the Koreans. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" shouted Hwang. "You noobs are wrecking our house!"

"And _who_ are _you_?" asked Raphael, huffing on the italicized words like Alice's caterpillar.

"We're the people you randomly teleported into the midst of," came the reply, "and it's anything but polite to repay us by trashing the place like this."

After a tense second, the vampire and the paladin sheepishly put away their weapons. Neither apologized, being far too proud to do such a thing, but they were sufficiently contrite as to warrant an approving nod from Seong Mi Na. "All right," she said, "that's more like it. Now would one of you happen to have an explanation as to why you randomly dropped in on us?"

"It must've been the Improbability Drive," concluded Yoshimitsu. "Setsuka had just been saying she was about to use it, and then here we were."

"Yes," agreed Cassandra. "That would explain why I'm here with this spawn of Satan and my troops are missing."

Raphael pointed his rapier upwards. "Spin on this, woman."

"What's an Improbability Drive?" asked Yunseong. "Does it go in the USB port?"

"No, it's a cube," Yoshimitsu explained. "Some kind of cube that makes anything the user wants happen, I guess. That's certainly what it seemed like."

Mi Na nodded, impressed. "1337ness. So what are you supposed to do now?"

Just then, there was another violent rumbling, and this time it wasn't from any melee-caused explosions; it was coming from outside. "What the hell is that?" wondered Hwang, looking about puzzledly.

"No time to wonder," ordered Mi Na. "Yunseong, to the lawn!"

Yunseong sulked. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Two minutes later, all seven of them had made it out to the front yard, and were currently looking around to determine the source of the rumbling noise. Nothing out-of-place was currently visible, however…

"Look over there!" said Yoshimitsu, pointing off into the horizon.

Sure enough, something was coming over the hill. The top of some kind of jumbly sphere peeked its way into view, followed by the rest of the object, which was not actually an object so much as an amalgam of Seoul, South Korea, and now beginning to roll down the hill towards them. Buildings, livestock, wagons, and even horses comprised parts of the gigantic ball, and it just seemed to suck up more and more of the terrain surrounding it as it rolled. A strange melody was playing, seemingly from nowhere:

_NAAAAA, NA NA NA NA NA NA NAAA, KATAMARI DAMASHIIII!_

_NA- NAAAAA, NA NA NA NA NA NA NAAA, KATAMARI DAMASHIIII!_

"RUN!" shouted Raphael, and they all took off, just as the massive ball of devastation sucked up the house and most of the yard. They ran for almost two hours straight, frantically leaping fences and dodging drafts, but the gigantic sphere only got faster as it got bigger, having added momentum. Yoshimitsu heard a yell behind him as Mi Na, Yunseong, and Hwang were sucked up into the rolling ball, and he knew that he and the other three were about to be next.

"Ehhh, two hundred meters will have to do," said Setsuka. "Time to bring it back." She extended the Improbability Drive/Blade/Sword/Thing, and a rainbow streaked down from the top of the tower.

Setsuka had used Royal Rainbow just in time, and Yoshimitsu collapsed to the ground in exhaustion, heaving and panting. Cassandra, Talim, and Raphael followed suit. After a couple minutes, Raphael (who had extraordinary endurance, being a vampire) said "We made it…but where are we?"

Indeed, where were they? Had they just run for two hours, only to be stranded far away from where they'd started?

Hell no. When a giant adhesive ball of garbage is chasing you, you RUN, man. And so it was that they'd run all the way from Seoul to Albania in the course of two hours. As it just so happened, a large airship was flying in their direction, apparently coming from Athens, and as it flew overhead, the craft stopped and lowered to the ground.

"What is THAT?" asked Cassandra. "Some kind of air galleon?"

"It's a flying boat," Talim observed.

The cargo hold doors opened, and Cervantes dashed out. "Jesus!" he shouted, glomping Yoshimitsu to the ground with a mighty hug. "I knew you'd be all right!"

"Uh…it's good to see you too," wheezed Yoshimitsu as the captain squeezed him.

* * *

"Well, this sucks," said Hwang as the enormous sphere they were in lifted into the atmosphere above the Tower of Setsuka. He and his friends were standing atop an overturned weapons store, apparently, and staring at the world three hundred feet below them.

"I'll say," added Mi Na. "I never got to beat Yunseong at Starcraft."

* * *

Part of the crew has been reunited, but what happened to the rest of them? Can Mi Na and company escape from their predicament and finish the LAN party? And will Ostrheinsburg have to go to jail? Find out in the next chapter, "Adequately Prepared To Rock". 


	14. Adequately Prepared To Rock

stops time with The World and crushes the disclaimer with a steamroller WRYYYYYYYYYYYY

Namco owns Soul Calibur. Capcom owns Dhalsim. Falco owns "Rock Me Amadeus." Either Blumchen, Germany, or both own the infamous "Hitler in flames" incident.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Adequately Prepared To Rock

While the Improbability Meltdown had resulted in generally detrimental effects for most of the Earth's population, Ostrheinsburg found that for once, fate was smiling on them. The four of them had been transported to India, meaning they were about ten minutes away from the Lakeside Colosseum and had a couple more days to rehearse than planned before the big show. No, not the Big Show, who would likely have no appreciation for their genre (described by Nightmare as "avante-garde, yet tinged with hints of progressive and experimental tangents", though he later admitted to being high from shooting up Soul Edge fragments at the time).

Also of note was the fact that Astaroth's large purple suit had been dramatically altered; rather than a giant and inexplicable hammerhead protruding from his frontal lobes, his helmet now sported his older look: a pair of trailing, mothlike antennae that stretched down to his ankles. The distinctively rabbit-like look drew numerous "Astar Bunny" jokes from Nightmare.

For most of the rehearsal period, there was little to none of the infighting that had plagued Ostrheinsburg's earlier period of preparation. Nightmare and Tira, having mended the rift between themselves with Barry White and occasional post-practice trysts (to the latter's pleasant surprise, the former's arm wasn't the only thing that had been dramatically enlarged by the Soul Edge), put together a solid lineup of songs for the show. They had selected ten of their greatest hits and arranged the pyrotechnics and assorted lighting effects, and by the time the day of the show came, there was nothing left to do but go out there and give it everything they had.

"Is everyone ready?" asked Nightmare as he, Tira, and Charade waited behind the stage for their cue to go on. "We got a damn good turnout; the house is packed and I dare say if we can pull off a good show here, the album should sell more than enough copies." He paused and looked around. "Where the hell is Astaroth?"

The door opened just then and the aforementioned bassist entered, pushing Maxi in front of him. "YOU GUYS," he shouted, "LOOK WHO I FOUND SLINKING AROUND OUTSIDE."

"I wasn't slinking," snapped Maxi. "The damn Improbability Drive warped me to India, and the Astar Bunny here—"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT. WORMS."

"—snatched me up and dragged me in here."

"It's him!" Nightmare yelled, grabbing the Soul Edge. "The guy who stole our music! Let's get him and---"

"Hold on, hold on. Look, I actually wanted to apologize."

There was a pause, as Tira, Nightmare, and Charade stared in disbelief, and Astaroth stared in that vacant way he normally stared at things. Tira finally stammered out an "Ap-apologize?"

"Yeah," confirmed Maxi, hanging his head. "Look…yeah, I stole your songs. And what's worse, I released them to the public as mine, which was theft and plagiarism and all kinds of dishonest. It was wrong of me."

"But why did you do it?" Nightmare asked. "You were just as successful as we were."

"I wasn't about to be. As you know, I was just coming off a torrid love affair with Cambodian pop songstress Mai-A-Hee Bambang, and the label said that our relationship had been good for both our album sales. And without her around, I was going to have to step up the production." Maxi sighed. "I guess I just couldn't handle the pressure."

"DUDE," roared Astaroth. "YOU TOTALLY DODGED GETTING THE CLAP, THOUGH."

"So I wanted to say, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have resorted to such artistic thievery, and it's my fault you guys are in the situation you're in. And so I would like," and here he took a deep breath of apprehension, "to offer my assistance with anything you guys might need help with, to make sure the show goes off right."

After a moment of thoughtful silence, Nightmare spoke up. "That was a noble thing to do, Maxi," he said, "and I accept your apology on behalf of Ostrheinsburg."

"WORMS. I THINK HE SHOULD DO COMMUNITY SERVICE," Astaroth screamed. "LIKE, GIVING FOOD TO HOMELESS PEOPLE OR SOMETHING."

"Astaroth, shut up," said Tira.

"SERIOUSLY, MAN, HAVE YOU SEEN THE LAKESIDE HOBOS?"

"He'll be much more useful if he actually helps with the concert." She stroked her chin thoughtfully, sizing Maxi up. "You can sing, right?"

"Right…"

"Hey, wait a minute," Nightmare broke in. "I'm the lead singer here."

"I know, but we need all the help we can get," replied Tira. "If Maxi sings, you can focus more on your guitar virtuoso…ocity….and frenzy the crowd up even more. Plus, he knows the songs, since he's been doing them on tour."

Maxi blushed from mild embarrassment. "Yeah…OK, so what songs are we doing?"

"The usual stuff, except towards the end, Nightmare had a good idea to finish up the set. You know how you put together a really great song, to the point where nobody can criticize the lyrics for being dumb even if they ARE dumb?"

"Do tell."

She handed him a sheet of music. "Make it in another language. That way, people can't say anything bad about it because most of them don't speak foreign languages, and they'll just feel dumb. So since Nightmare speaks German, I had him throw together something with a catchy hook, and the occasional English word. Shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"Not at all," said Maxi, wondering how he was going to memorize a bunch of words he didn't understand in an hour.

* * *

The Lakeside Colosseum was about as packed as it gets. Fifteen thousand screaming fans filled the bleachers, the balconies, the mosh pit, and the restrooms as they waited for Ostrheinsburg to take the stage. Most of the tech support companies had let their employees off for the day in honor of the big concert, and so every seat in the house was sold out. To kick off the festivities, Indian Prime Minister Dhalsim took the stage to a round of applause and elephant noises.

"Greetings, my friends," he announced into the microphone. "Are you adequately prepared to ROCK?"

The resulting wall of cheers would've knocked him off his feet, especially since he weighed fifty pounds, if it weren't for his Yoga training that kept him focused and upright. "Well, that's awesome, because today, you're going to see a band that thrashes like the many arms of Vishnu, burns like the eye of Agni, and explodes with the force of YOGA FIIIIRE."

More cheers. The crowd was white-hot, and ready to go nuclear for their heroes.

"So ladies and gentlemen, without further ado…_OSTRHEINSBUUUUUURG_!"

If the Lakeside Colosseum had a roof, it would've been blown off by the blast of general fanboyishness as the curtains pulled back to reveal Ostrheinsburg on the stage with their instruments. Nightmare grabbed the microphone and bellowed into it at the top of his lungs, "LAAAAAKESIIIIIIIDE! THE PRIME MINISTER ASKED YOU, ARE YOU ADEQUATELY PREPARED TO ROOOOOOCK?"

"You know," said Tira, "I think they're adequately---"

"_CAUSE I'M ABOUT TO BLOW YOUR EARDRUMS OUT THE BACK OF THIS MOTHERFUCKER! ONETWOTHREEFOUR---"_

The resulting sonic boom of instrumentalism could be heard by several satellites in orbit (and actually knocked Setsuka off her throne two thousand miles away) as Ostrheinsburg launched into the pulse-pounding intro of their hit single "Squirm, Scream, Die, Exterminate, Worms." Charade's drums summoned a double-bass onslaught that rendered everybody in the arena legally deaf and blind, and the dueling guitars of Nightmare and Tira shredded through the intro riffs. Astaroth dashed up to the microphone, slapping at the strings on his bass to produce notes like small nuclear explosions, and bellowed out the song into the mic with all his gusto:

_KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH_

_BLAH BLAH BLOO BLAAAAARGH_

_IT WILL RAIN A RAIN OF BLOOD_

_SQUIRM, SCREAM, DIE_

_EXTEEEEEERMINAAAAAATE_

_WORMS!_

_DEAD YET?_

_WORMS, WORMS ARE EXTERMINATING_

_SQUIRM AND SCREAM_

_THEN DIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEE_

_WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH_

_SATAN! I AM THE ANTI-POPE!_

(Please note that the above line was a later Nightmare insert, in an attempt to stir up controversy, rather than an actual Astaroth original during the writing of the song)

_WORMS! WORMS AND STRIFE!_

_KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!_

_EEEEYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH_

_cough cough_

_GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

* * *

_

Backstage, Maxi was getting ready to go on for the finale. He read over the lyrics one last time, trying to get the cadence of the song down. "OK…I think I've got it." 

He looked up, staring at the curtain that led to the stage. "Time to go rock and roll."

* * *

"Well, guys, you've been a hell of an audience tonight," announced Nightmare, "and now it's time for the finale! We have a special guest for you, though…"

A hush fell over the crowd, broken only by rippling murmurs of speculation.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Ostrheinsburg's new lead singer…MAXI!"

Maxi ran out onto the stage to a new wave of approval from the crowd, and grabbed the microphone from Nightmare. "All right," he yelled, "it's time to finish up! We've got one more song for you guys, so make some noise for ROCK ME AMADEUS!"

_Rock me, Amadeus_

_Ro-Ro-Rock me, Amadeus!_

_Er war ein Punker_

_Und er lebte in der großen Stadt_

_Es war Wien, war Vienna_

_Wo er alles tat_

_Er hatte Schulden denn er trank_

_Doch ihn liebten alle Frauen_

_Und jede rief:_

_Come on and rock me Amadeus!_

_Er war Superstar _

_Er war populär _

_Er war so exaltiert_

_Because er hatte Flair_

_Er war ein Virtuose_

_War ein Rockidol_

_Und alles rief:_

_Come on and rock me Amadeus!_

_Amadeus, Amadeus! Amadeus!_

_Amadeus, Amadeus! Amadeus!_

_Amadeus, Amadeus, oh oh oh Amadeus!_

_Es war um 1780---_

And as all good things do, the concert came to an abrupt end as the SWAT team rappelled from the rooftops and stormed the place, firing beanbag shotguns and submachine guns loaded with rubber bullets every which way. A detachment leapt onto the stage and immediately began handcuffing the members of the band.

"What the hell is this crap?" shouted Tira. "Why are we being arrested?"

"You know that pyro blast that went off when the chorus started?" asked the SWAT captain.

"Yeah…"

"I'm sorry to say it bore an uncanny resemblance to Adolf Hitler, too much of one to be taken coincidentally. Combined with the fact that you were singing in German, we're going to have to take you in on suspicion of National Socialist activities."

"What?" yelled Maxi as the five of them were thrown in the police van. "We didn't plan that? And who the hell is Adolf Hitler?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, the van sped off from the Colosseum with its passengers secured in the back. "Well," Maxi announced, "that was a disaster."

"NO, DUDE," screamed Astaroth, putting up the horns, "THAT WAS FUCKIN' HARDCORE."

"You KNOW it!" yelled Nightmare, high fiving him. "Controversy, here we come! That album's gonna sell more than enough to keep us out of jail!"

"We're heading to jail already," Tira reminded him.

An awkward silence filled the back of the van.

"All the better!" Nightmare suddenly exclaimed. "It'll just add to our reputation! Maaaan, this is the best thing that's ever happened to us."

"So…you're saying this is a good thing?" asked a bewildered Maxi.

"Maxi, my boy, welcome to the world of tr00ness."

And with that, they rocked out.

In the next chapter, Setsuka unveils her completed weapon of mass destruction and holds the entire world hostage, setting her demands at an impossibly high price. With no other recourse to the solution, it's up to Cervantes and company to take out the weapon…but meanwhile, M.T.F.L.B.R.H. have a date with destiny (and a heavy amount of improbability), and Mitsurugi will never be the same! All this and more, in Chapter Fifteen, "The Candyman Can"!


	15. The Candyman Can!

Ah, the holidays are over. Time to get back to work.

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Calibur; if I did, Necrid wouldn't have been in it and the soundtrack would be entirely done by Dark Tranquillity. Namco owns it. Marvel owns Dr. Doom. Remedy owns Max Payne.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: The Candyman Can!

"Gentlemen," shouted Setsuka from the screen of every TV screen in the world, "BEHOLD!"

As the empress of the known universe pointed to the sky above her, the camera followed the motion to show an absolutely prodigious katamari floating over the Tower of Setsuka. It was big enough to be a small planetoid, and its mere presence cast a shadow for miles.

"I possess the greatest weapon in the history of mankind, foolish citizens of the Earth. With a snap of my fingers, I could drive this katamari into the ground, spiraling through the layers of the planet's crust until it slammed into the core and set off a chain reaction of explosions that would destroy the Earth itself."

Setsuka took this opportunity to laugh maniacally.

* * *

Back in her palace, the Queen of England watched the events unfold on the television with no small measure of distress.

"What is that madwoman doing?" she shouted. "She's got a moon over the tower!"

"That's no moon, your majesty," advised the Prime Minister. "It's a magically adhesive ball of debris!"

"Well, that's a relief. For a minute, I thought you were going to call it something _silly_, like a space station."

* * *

"And so it is that I hold the entire world hostage," cackled the Great Mighty Setsuka with glee. "As I am your captor, it is only natural that you should have to pay a ransom for your safety, and so I place my demands here."

She paused, savoring the moment and rubbing her hands together.

"I hold the world hostage for…._all the tea in China_."

* * *

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" roared Genghis Khan.

* * *

"You have three days to comply with my demands. Any attempts to sabotage the cunning plan will result in me slamming the katamari into the Earth's core and destroying you all. The tea must be delivered to the Tower of Setsuka, and it must be _steaming hot_ or else I will consider this an attempt at sabotage."

Setsuka grinned at the camera.

"I suggest you make your choice wisely."

With that, the image feed died.

"This is absurd!" said the Prime Minister. "We do not give in to the demands of terrorists!"

"Indeed not," agreed the Queen. "Call the President; we must discuss this."

"The United States technically doesn't exist yet."

"Oh, true. In that case, get me Cervantes de Leon."

* * *

_MEANWHILE!_

The Ferrari's wheels kicked up a cloud of dust behind it as it cut through the deserts around the Tower of Setsuka. They'd been on the interstate for about three hours (minus occasional rest stops), surviving off fast food and grilled halibut, since Mr. Calcos had decided to eat his former briefcase at one point.

Mitsurugi was in the backseat with Kilik and Siegfried, and had been scratching at his arms and chest for the last hour or so of the trip. He seemed irritated about something, and rather uncomfortable. Siegfried supposed it could just be gonorrhea, since Mitsurugi was always picking up girls wherever the two of them went, but nonetheless, he figured it was his duty as a friend and business partner to ask. "Hey Mitsurugi, are you all right? You look like you've been itching a lot more than normal."

"I'm fine," said Mitsurugi, whose skin was beginning to turn white with red stripes. "Everything is perfectly normal; it's just that since getting hit with that improbability wave, I've probably gotten psoriasis or something." He rubbed at his hair, which was fast starting to resemble licorice.

"Okay," Siegfried said, backing off. "Are you sure, though? Your skin's starting to look like…well, a candy cane."

"Pshaw!" yelled Mitsurugi, because I've been waiting to use that word the whole time I've been writing this thing. "I see no such thing."

"I see it too," Kilik put in. "Maybe you should---"

Just then, the car came to a halt outside the Tower of Setsuka. "We're here," said Mr. Calcos. Amazingly, it hadn't run out of gas on the way there, and probably never would, seeing as how Mr. Calcos was the only person who consistently did nothing but benefit from the Improbability Waves' effects.

Mitsurugi clambered out of the backseat. "You guys go ahead, I've gotta take a piss. I'll catch up with you in just a minute."

Siegfried, Kilik, and Xianghua proceeded towards the front gates as Mr. Calcos parked the car. 'You know," observed Xianghua, "it's odd that we haven't met any guards yet."

"FREEZE!"

About thirty soldiers in uniform came charging out from behind the gate, which activated a pair of spotlights to shine right on the group of intruders. An assortment of M4 assault rifles trained on the heroes, ready to fire at an instant's notice.

"Just kidding?" asked Xianghua hopefully.

* * *

_When the messengers told Captain Cervantes that the Queen of England wanted to see us, I couldn't help but be surprised. Royalty had always disregarded my kind of person, kicked them aside like an issue of the Weekly World News on a street in New York City in the middle of one of those torrential rainstorms where the drops pour down like words in an extremely run-on sentence such as this one. Their tendency to only call on my types so they could use us and throw us away like a gun-toting condom left me pretty suspicious of their motives. Nonetheless, we left the four we'd picked up to guard the airship and headed off where we were told to meet these people._

"I assure you, Mr. Payne, that our motives are strictly in the interest of the planet," corrected the Prime Minister with a severe look in Max's direction.

_Amazing. Somehow, they'd developed the ability to tell what I was thinking. Was there some sinister force at work here? Valkyr, even?_

"No, Mr. Payne, you're narrating out loud."

_I didn't get what he meant. "I don't understand. Narrating?"_

"Uh, Mr. Prime Minister," broke in Cervantes, "perhaps it's best if you don't get into that with him. I tried on the way here and we were talking for about two hours straight and didn't come to any kind of resolution. So why did you call us here?"

"It's quite simple," came the reply. "I'm sure you're aware by now of the Great Mighty Setsuka's terrorist actions in holding the Earth hostage. It's come to our attention that you are, after all, the greatest pirate in all the seven seas…"

Cervantes polished an imaginary apple out of pride.

"…and that your friend Mr. Payne here has the ability to slow down time, as well as strange advanced pistols that actually hit people. Also, you have the mysterious flying ship, something which could infiltrate the castle grounds without the need of a prolonged war of attrition. With that in mind, we have assigned you two to part of a four-person task force, along with two other operatives of ours, to mount an assault on the tower and get rid of that weapon of mass destruction."

"Why aren't other countries in on this?"

"Well, the Spanish have problems of their own fighting Setsuka's army on the frontiers, and somebody just deposed the Italian monarchy. I don't have any idea who's in charge over there now."

* * *

"What are your orders, my liege?" asked the commander of the Italian Army.

"_SSSSSS SSSSSSSSSSSSS_," decreed King Voldo I.

"He says," translated Queen Isabella from her position on the king's lap, "that from now on, this week will be known as National Avarice Week. And to please invade Estonia, because some thieves from there stole a painting out of the Money Pit a couple weeks ago."

"Yes, your majesty."

"Now get out; the monarchy has some 'business' to attend to."

* * *

The Prime Minister stood, and extended his hand. "Captain Cervantes, the fate of the world rests on you taking this mission. Will you accept it, for Queen and country?"

Despite having a King and being a Spanish citizen (and a ghost), Cervantes heartily shook the man's hand. "I'll do it!" he exhorted. "I'll send that treacherous wench straight down to Davy Jones's locker! And Michael Tork's locker! And Peter Nesmith's locker!" All the Monkees had lockers, it'd seem.

"Excellent! It's time for you to meet the other two operatives. If they'd please come in…"

The door to the briefing room opened, and a panda bear with a squirrel riding on its back entered.

"What is this, some kind of joke?" asked Cervantes.

"No joke," responded the panda in a familiar voice. "You idiots couldn't stop Setsuka, so now look what I've been reduced to. It's a damned tragedy, I say! That was MY cunning plan."

_The captain gaped in awe, like all of his dark and sordid past had come roaring out of R. Kelly's closet to tackle him to the ground and beat him in the head with his failures. It looked like this panda was a friend of his. "You know this guy?"_

Cervantes's eyes were wide. "Z-Zasalamel?"

"YES, it's Zasalamel," the panda snapped. "That blasted traitor Setsuka's Improbability Meltdown turned me into a panda! A panda! Look at this injustice! Where once I was a glorious conqueror of worlds, I now lust not for power, but for a stick of bamboo!"

"So who's the squirrel?"

"Do not merely address me as 'the squirrel,' peasant!" screamed Dr. Doom, shaking his squirrely fist once more. "You will bow in the presence of Viktor Von Doom, exalted monarch of Latveria!"

"Huh? Oh, I don't really know the squirrel," said Zasalamel. "He just kinda hopped on while I was on my way here. Seems pretty harmless."

"Do not presume to ignore me, foolish marsupial!"

Just then, the second operative walked into the room, giving Cervantes the opportunity to look her over. She was wearing an impossibly tight red bodysuit…with a pair of kunai at her belt…and a half-mask.

His Ninja Sense was TINGLING.

* * *

"I have an idea," whispered Kilik. "Siegfried, you have armor and a Zweihander. Why don't you charge the guards and kick their asses while we run for it?"

"I can't," Siegfried moped. "The guilt of my past slaughters serves as enough of a precautionary warning not to repeat such atrocities, under pain of---"

"Shut up!" yelled one of the guards, firing a warning shot in front of them. Siegfried nearly pissed himself. "Now hear this," the burly man continued. "You three are to proceed to the dungeon, where you will be---"

SNIKT. His eyes went unfocused, then rolled back in his head. The guard, obviously dead, fell forward to the ground, revealing a razor-sharp sugar cookie sticking out of the back of his head. Obviously, this was a source of great consternation to the other soldiers, who were about to open fire, except that a hail of sugar cookies came raining down on them. Guards dropped left and right, and so Siegfried, Xianghua, and Kilik took advantage of the confusion to rush their captors and overpower them. Meanwhile, from the top of the nearby fence, Mitsurugi came leaping down into the midst of the guards. He unsheathed Shishi-Oh as he landed and hacked straight through the torso of one of the men, revealing that it…

…was a candy cane. His katana had changed to an incredibly sharp candy cane. Oddly, this didn't seem to bother Mitsurugi, although it presented a surreally horrifying sight as he dashed through the ranks of guards, cleaving and slashing with a blur of red and white.

Kilik looked up from smacking a guard unconscious with Kali-Yuga just in time to see another detachment run into the yard from the garrison. "Hey!" shouted the captain. "Get that ronin!" They charged in, but immediately began to leap about in pain because they'd stepped on a pile of caltrops. _Caramel_ caltrops, might I add, and at this point a certain running theme was very noticeable in the way Mitsurugi was dispatching his opponents.

Quick as a flash, he slammed down a smoke bomb and disappeared in a puff of powdered sugar. The captain looked around in horror, wondering where the samurai had went, but there was a similar puff over his head, and he looked up just in time to see Mitsurugi come down on him with a mighty overhand slash of the candy cane. After landing, he turned from the captain and put the confectionary katana back in its sheath as his victim fell to the ground.

"Mitsurugi!" yelled Siegfried, running up to him. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I dunno," came the reply. "At least the itching's stopped."

"It must've been that Improbability Meltdown. You've turned into some kind of candyland ronin!" Siegfried broke down in tears. "Oh god, this is all my fault! Another of my many sins that weighs me down, and what's worse, I did it to my best friend!"

"First and foremost," said Mitsurugi, "I'm not even your friend, much less your best one. And secondly, you had nothing to do with it." Then, as an afterthought, "And thirdly, it's kinda nice."

Xianghua took an experimental lick of Mitsurugi's shoulder. "Mmm, peppermint."

"Stop that."

* * *

Cervantes leapt to his feet, shoving the chair behind him away so hard it fell over. He stared at the woman they'd brought in as the fourth member of his strike force. There was no mistaking the looks of her, she was…

"A NINJA!" he shouted.

Taki's eyes narrowed as well as she gasped in horror and fury.

"A PIRATE!" she shrieked.

Zasalamel covered his eyes with his paws.

"A complete disaster," he moaned.

"You are correct in your assumption, puny black and white one," agreed Dr. Doom.

* * *

In the next chapter: Getting Cassandra, Talim, and Raphael to coexist is one thing. Asking a ninja and a pirate to try to cooperate for the good of the world is another beast entirely. Will the assault on the Tower of Setsuka completely fall apart against the might of Setsuka's navy? Mitsurugi's hot and spicy, but does he TASTE GREAT like Curry Man? Will Zasalamel be restored to his normal form? Can Hwang Sung Kyung get his name re-spelled so it actually looks Korean? It's basically nothing but senseless violence for the ENTIRE CHAPTER STRAIGHT in Chapter Sixteen, "Ready To Die"! 


	16. Ready To Die

Argh, the new semester at USC is awful. :(

Regardless, I have returned to provide you with another chapter. But first, some shout-outs: I got a ton of revews for the last couple chapters, and I must extend my thanks to all of you. You're all awesome, and inspire my lazy ass to update on a semi-regular basis.

(And I don't normally do individual responses, but I admit to squealing when MakoAnima showed up. Something about the person who did "This Way" actually knowing I exist is awesome in thousands of ways.)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or franchises. Andrew WK owns the song from which the chapter title is taken from, because it's really fun to write mindless fight scenes while listening to his stuff. Especially "Ready To Die". Seriously. Try it some time.

This chapter is way too much like a Xenon flash. o.O

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Ready To Die

Ever since the epic duel between Cabeza de Leon and Waki of the Fuu-ma clan, pirates and ninjas had been the greatest of sworn enemies, closely followed by peanut butter and jelly, and so their descendants were no exception to the rule.

"Shiver me timbers!" yelled Cervantes, whose swords were already out of their scabbards as Zasalamel tried to hold him back. "Let me at that smoke-bombing gutter wench! I'll twist her like a coat hanger in an abortion clinic!"

"Stupid drunken pirate scum!" shouted Taki, who was being likewise restrained by the Prime Minister and Max Payne. "I'd like to see you try!"

"Cease your idiotic babble, fools!"

Everybody stopped at the high-pitched roar, and stared at Dr. Doom perched on a case file in the center of the desk. "We do not have time to listen to the petty babbling of my inferiors!" he snarled with a squirrely grimace. "You must overthrow the idiot holding the Improbability Drive so I can be restored to my true glory, or taste the wrath of a thousand Doombots!"

There was a tense pause, until Zasalamel finally spoke up. "The squirrel is right."

"Do _not_ address me as 'The Squirrel', endangered species! I am the magnificent Doctor—"

"You're right about the squirrel being right," admitted Cervantes. He reluctantly sheathed his swords. "The world needs saving, and we're the only ones who can do it."

"What makes you so sure YOU'RE the—" asked Aquaman, shortly before getting hit by a mack truck. His ability to talk to fish did not save him.

After a second of contemplation, Taki put away her kunai as well. "Do not think this insult will go unavenged, buccaneer," she warned, "but for the time being, we should indeed postpone our duel to the finish."

"After this is over, woman, we shall have our climactic showdown. Before the day is through, the blood of ninjas shall stain my sword," the captain declared.

"Wonderful, wonderful," said Zasalamel. "Can we get to the airship already?"

* * *

The clock ticked on and on, every moment coming closer to the fateful second at which Setsuka would press the Big Red Button (TM) and unleash the katamari into the Earth's core. Her fingers twitched with anticipation and possible obsessive-compulsive disorder as she stared at the console, and even Long Wang covered his face with his cute little paws.

"Empress Setsuka!" shouted a soldier as he dashed into the throne room. "There's an airship approaching the tower! What shall we do?"

"What? They're actually going to try to stop me?" Setsuka was dumbfounded, and yet simultaneously outraged. "Call for the Navy! Summon up the troops! Roll out the barrel! Send in the clowns! Bring out your dead!"

"Yes, ma'am," answered the soldier, putting a radio to his ear. "Admiral! The Great Mighty Setsuka says to launch the fleet!"

In the command ship, a shadowy figure listened to the voice on the radio. He turned to reply, and the light caught the metallic side of his face with a glimmer.

"Understand. Proceeded to contract the intruders."

* * *

As the airship (officially dubbed the _Flying Nun_) sped over the Tower of Setsuka, accompanied by a whole fleet of allied ships and ground troops, Setsuka's army dashed out to meet them. The two waves of infantry collided on the ground in a flurry of bullets and swords, while in the sky, the nimble fighter craft zipped every which way. Firepower from these snub fighters, as useful as it was, was generally useless against the big cruisers and airships, which lingered in the back.

Chief amongst said cruisers was Setsuka's capital ship the _Engrishman_, a hulking leviathan that was made of steel and win. From his position at the wheel of the _Flying Nun_, Cervantes knew that they couldn't win a head-on attack with the massive battleship; instead, he ordered Raphael and Cassandra to man the turrets and shoot at the Setsukan fighters. They didn't know enough about the nature of the katamari to risk firing at it, and so it was left unmolested for the time being.

Ha ha, molested.

Anyway, a fiery arc streaked over the sky as one of the Setsukan jets tumbled from the air. "That's another one down!" called Raphael.

"I have ten so far, heathen," Cassandra sneered.

"Pshaw. I have thirty thousand."

"Lying is a _sin_."

Talim emerged from the cabin, looking about bewilderedly again. "Did something happen again?" she asked.

The vampire and the paladin exchanged a brief glance.

"Talim?" asked Cassandra. "Did you….do _that_ again?"

"Do what again?"

* * *

"OH GOD, IT HURTS!" shrieked the eviscerated soldier as he was dragged from the battlefield. The medical personnel continued to remove more and more shredded bodies.

"What the hell happened here?" asked the senior officer.

"I don't know, sir!" a medic replied. "All they said was something about fangs and eyes and 'WIIIIIND'!"

* * *

"Nothing," sighed Cassandra. "Man a turret and get to shooting."

Meanwhile, outside the _Flying Nun_, Yoshimitsu had commandeered a Sopwith Camel, and was drilling holes through the fuselages of incoming fighters with his squadron. "Lock S-Foils in attack position!" he yelled. "Namuuuuu!"

Just then, a Fokker triplane came diving down from behind the sun.

_IT WAS THE RED BARON._

"Requiem For A Dream" started playing out of nowhere as the fearsome German ace swooped and rolled through the air, spraying bullets over the Allied forces' ranks. Yoshimitsu swooped and turned like a midair gyro, trying to escape, but the Fokker's shots kept tracking him through the air, and it wasn't looking good. "He's on my six!" shouted the cyborg over the radio. "I can't shake him!"

His viewscreen flickered to life, and the wise, venerable face of Peppy Hare appeared. "Do a barrel roll!" he commanded.

"How?"

"Press Z or R twice!"

Not really having much of a choice, Yoshimitsu threw all his momentum into a barrel roll that sent him twirling over the battlefield. He swooped under an AT-AT mid roll, soared upwards, and finally got out of the Baron's line of fire. With a turn of the wheel, Yoshimitsu came by for another pass and raked the scarlet plane with a barrage of gunfire. The fuel ignited, sending up a gigantic fireball as the triplane spiraled towards the ground. "He got me!" shrieked the Baron. "Das mayday! Das mayday!"

"That's another one down," said Yoshimitsu. "Pull around the side of the fleet and—"

_BOOM_. The back end of his Camel blew off in an explosion of sound and fury. It seemed the _Engrishman_ had joined in the fight, and was indiscriminately broadsiding the entire battlefield with its side-mounted cannons. Yoshimitsu felt his ship spiraling out of control, and bailed out over the _Flying Nun._ He parachuted down onto the deck just as Zasalamel (with Doom on his back) walked out to help him get back in.

"Are you all right?" asked the panda.

"I'm fine," came the reply. "But somebody's gotta do something about those cannons."

* * *

((A.N.: You should probably start listening to Duel of the Fates now.))

Meanwhile, on the first floors of the Tower of Setsuka, most of the army had cleared out to go battle the invaders, and as such, the only troops left behind were a medium-sized security force. It wasn't proving to be much of a match for the combined prowess of Kilik, Xianghua, and the artists tentatively known as My Tears Flow Like Blood-Red Hiragana. A trail of corpses, blood, and powdered sugar marked their path through the tower, all the way up to the doors of the throne room, which were quickly removed with Mitsurugi's C4 frosting.

"Infidels!" screamed Setsuka, leaping off her throne. "How dare you violate the sanctity of my sanctimonious sanctum?"

"We've come to stop you!" Mitsurugi declared. He pulled out his candy cane (I'm talking about the SWORD, you perverts) and thrust it out in front of him (OK, perhaps not so much so anymore). "Your days of ruling the world are over!"

"That's right," Siegfried agreed, stepping up next to his partner with the Zweihander at the ready. "With your defeat, I will have atoned for my past sins and---"

"Shut the fuck up. I'm doing the talking here."

"Sorry."

"Anyway," continued Mitsurugi, "your reign ends now! Prepare yourself!

Standing up, Setsuka produced her parasol. "Guards!"

A whole other legion of security guards came dashing down the hall, attempting to flank the heroes. Kilik and Xianghua turned to fight them just as Setsuka pressed a button and closed the throne room's blast doors, trapping Mitsurugi and Siegfried in the room with her.

Slowly, and with a horrifyingly deliberate nature, the handle of the parasol extended into…_another parasol._

"My god," gasped Siegfried. "It's a double-bladed umbrella!"

"And it will be your doom!" shouted the empress, who leapt forth with impossible velocity, landing between the two. Her first strike was ridiculously fast, and straight for Mitsurugi's heart. The candyland ronin parried it aside and struck forth with a strike of his own, but the other end of Setsuka's double parasol swung back around and slapped his attack aside while simultaneously forcing Siegfried to block a shot that could've, god forbid, bruised his cheek.

Siegfried's return stroke came in low and fast, just as Mitsurugi's came from the other side right at Setsuka's head. But the Empress cartwheeled to one side, kicking off the wall of the throne room in the process, and came back with a flying roundhouse that almost decapitated both men. Fortunately for them, Siegfried ducked while Mitsurugi leaped over the slash, leaving the two parties to stare each other down in their passive stances. The moment of respite lasted only a few seconds before the heroes went on the attack again, and the sparks flew thick and heavy as the three danced about in an elegant flurry of strikes and parries.

Amazingly, Setsuka proved to be an incredibly competent swordswoman, not giving them a single opening from one end that she couldn't counter from another. It turned out to be Mitsurugi, oddly enough, who made the first mistake, turning far too much with a particularly violent slash of Shishi-Oh. Setsuka made him pay for it with a sweeping backhanded strike to the legs which knocked him on his back, and Siegfried barely dodged the other end of the parasol as it sliced through the air about an inch from his face. His turning motion simply provided more momentum for a spinning backhand slash actually made a high-pitched whooshing sound as it rocketed around towards its intended target. Things didn't go as planned, however; Setsuka jumped up _onto_ the Requiem's blade as it approached, leapt off, and swung down with such force that it knocked Mitsurugi backwards into the wall. Shishi-Oh went spinning across the floor, and a force field surrounded Mitsurugi so he couldn't get back into the action.

"Ha!" sneered Setsuka. "This tower is powered by the Improbability Drive; the likes of you can't hope to win against it. And now I have the upper hand." She pointed the parasol at Siegfried. "Surrender!"

"Surrender?" Siegfried asked in amazement. "Not 'die'?"

"I can always recognize a good soldier when I see one," replied the Empress. "Come over to my side, and you'll receive your just rewards. Think about it. Nobody likes you now, but that could change if you had all the power in the world, couldn't it?"

"Don't do it, emo boy!" yelled Mitsurugi, banging on the force field walls. "Don't give in to your angst!"

"Just think," Setsuka continued, "you could be immortal if you wanted."

In that moment, Siegfried's eyes widened, and she knew she'd goofed.

"Eternal life?" he stammered. "An eternity of THIS? All the pain, all the suffering, all the guilt of the horrible crimes I committed as Nightmare which I can never erase from the sordid annals of my bloody history? Mitsurugi would never let me live it down."

Setsuka smacked herself on the forehead.

"No, I refuse!" said Siegfried, just a little more emboldened. "I ruined everybody's lives once, and I won't stand by and let it happen again."

"Then scatter and DIE!" yelled Setsuka, leaping back at him. She focused all of her power into one huge downward slash with both ends of the parasol, aiming straight for Siegfried's head.

It probably would've killed him if he hadn't stepped to one side and kicked her out of the air.

* * *

On the _Flying Nun_'s bridge, Cervantes was ordering various firing points for his crew. The battle seemed to be wavering, advantage-wise, as one side would gain some leeway and then the other would immediately make up for it. "Target the fighters at nine o'clock!" he ordered.

"Roger," answered Yoshimitsu, swiveling a turret. "What should I do until then?"

Just then, the entire airship was rocked by a massive explosion that shook them all from their command posts. Cervantes narrowly grabbed onto the first thing he could reach to keep from falling down; unfortunately, it was Taki, and they both crashed to the floor.

"Hey!" shouted the outraged ninja.

"No time for protests!" Cervantes scrambled to his feet. "What happened?"

"Somebody just hit our engines with a smart bomb," reported Cassandra.

The consoles to the left of the bridge beeped. "Captain!" said Raphael. "Incoming transmission!"

"What?"

"Patching it through to the main screen…"

The viewscreen came alive, and the Admiral of the fleet stepped into view. Everybody in the cabin gasped at the sight of his long, flowing robes, his immense stature, and the metal plating that covered a side of his inhuman visage.

"You!" Cassandra gasped.

"How are you gentlemen!" gloated Admiral CATS. He swept out an arm in a grandiose gesture, encompassing the battlefield around them. "I show the non-pleasant sensation which is largest to you!"

Cervantes swore like a sailor, which was fitting, and shook his fist. "Bastard! You hit us with a smart bomb, and now you're gloating about it?"

"Release to engage your engines and surrender," the Admiral advised them. "Your end is coming into darkness yet until we see." And then, almost as an afterthought, "Ha ha ha."

"CATS," asked Taki, her eyes full of dismay and anger, "why did you do it? Why did you betray Her Majesty and join with Setsuka's army? We were comrades in arms! Come back to the side of the good guys; it's not too late!"

A withering gaze. "My return to the life of mine that is old will never be happening."

Taki hung her head as CATS turned from the screen, offering some final words. "See your spirit's unknown feeling of terror," he cackled. "You have no chance to survive…_make your time._"

And with that, he was gone.

Cervantes put a hand on Taki's shoulder. "Uh, look," he said, "I'm sorry about him. It's just that…well…sometimes in life, things get so strange, you gotta just throw up them hands and say 'BULLA BULLA'."

"You know, that made absolutely no sense," came the reply, "but it was actually kinda comforting. Thanks. You're pretty cool, for a pirate."

There were a couple moments of quiet contemplation, until the iron voice of Doctor Doom interrupted everyone's thoughts. "If I may detract from the sentimental moment at hand," he sneered, "it would appear that our engines have been destroyed and we are now drifting." The monarch of Latveria swished his bushy tail back and forth to accentuate his point. "If anyone has any methods of alleviating this situation and crushing our foes, I suggest you speak up now."

"I agree with the squirrel," said Yoshimitsu.

"DO _NOT_ CALL ME---"

"Yeah," Cervantes spoke up. "I think I've got something."

His gaze traveled around the bridge, and rested on Taki…then Yoshimitsu…then finally, Talim.

"I think I've got a cunning plan of my own."

* * *

In the next chapter: Setsuka's down but sure as hell not out. The katamari could be dropped at the push of a button. The fleet is wreaking havoc. And it would seem like the Empress of the Known Universe still has one last trick up her sleeve…find out, in Chapter Seventeen, "The One Winged Endboss". 


	17. The One Winged Endboss

Disclaimer: Namco owns Soul Calibur, Remedy owns Max Payne, I'm not really sure WHO owns CATS but it isn't me, Marvel owns Dr. Doom, and Square-Enix is responsible for most of the travesties that inspired Sepher Setsuka.

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: The One-Winged Endboss

"So let me get this straight," said Taki. "Talim has fragments of the Soul Edge in here, so she can suck the souls out of the Improbability Drive, taking away the primary source of Setsuka's power."

"That's correct," Cervantes agreed.

"So we need to get her in close, and in order to do that, we'll need the rest of the team to distract Setsuka, CATS, and whomever else she's got with her."

"Right."

"Meanwhile, we'll get Max to slow down time so we have as wide an opportunity as possible to get Talim close to the Improbability Drive."

"Yup."

"By letting her ride on Zasalamel's back, because you said he has, and I quote, 'mad marsupial speed skillz'."

"That's about the gist of it."

Everybody mulled over it for a second, and Taki finally spoke up again. "That," she said, "is the most utterly suicidal, improbable plan I have ever heard of. And where _is_ Max, anyway?"

"He's asleep down in the cargo hold," Yoshimitsu interjected. "Took a couple too many painkillers and he's been all drowsy for the last few hours."

"So that's even worse. How do we know he'll be able to slow down time if he's high as a kite on vicodin and barely able to see ten feet in front of himself? This can't possibly work."

Cervantes folded his arms and glared with the gimlet eye that only a pirate can produce. "And do you," he asked, "have a better plan?"

"Sure," she answered. "We call in a strike force and bomb the hell out of the tower."

A half-second pause went by.

"That's ridiculous," said Raphael.

"Preposterous," added Cassandra.

"It'll never work," Talim declared.

"Let's do it Cervantes's way," finished Yoshimitsu.

Taki stared in disbelief. "_Fine_. We'll do it Cervantes's way." And with that, she stomped down to the cargo hold to wake Max up. A couple seconds later, Cervantes opened the treasure chest next to him.

"OK," he said, "how much do I owe you?"

"Fifteen apiece, like you promised," Cassandra reminded him.

* * *

Mitsurugi bashed free of the force field with a couple swings of his sugary katana and rushed to Siegfried's side, panting from the exertion of breaking through. "You did it!" he exclaimed. "You defeated Setsuka and saved us all!"

"Wow, really?" asked the overwhelmed swordsman. "I did, didn't I? I saved the world from being destroyed by a magically adhesive ball of garbage! We're heroes!" He struck a victory pose. "All the world over, people will rejoice at the name of My Tears Flow Like—"

_Smack_. "Just because you saved the world," warned Mitsurugi, "doesn't mean you can run around calling us that dumbassed name."

Siegfried rubbed the top of his head where the candy cane had hit him. "All right, all right. We'll just have to—"

Their conversation was interrupted as Setsuka, apparently mortally wounded, pulled herself up to a sitting position via the Improbability Drive's pedestal and produced a Big Red Button (TM). "So you think you're victorious?" she sneered. "Nonsense! I hold right here the trigger mechanism to plunge the Katamari into the Earth's core and destroy us all!"

"Oh shit, we forgot about that," said Mitsurugi.

"And now it will be your undoing! Kiss your precious planet goodbye!"

Setsuka pressed the button. Nothing happened.

"What?" She pressed the button again, and again, and again. Still nothing.

"Why the hell isn't this thing working?"

* * *

With a satisfied smile, Seong Mi Na removed the last of the receiver modules from the katamari's propulsion device. "Well, that should be all of them," she said. "With the equipment we've managed to salvage, Yunseong should be able to build us an escape pod to get back to Korea. Ph33r our mad skillz."

"Mad skillz indeed," exclaimed Hwang. "We'll be back on Earth in no time."

Just then, an eerie light flashed around them, and much to their surprise, a flying saucer descended amongst the debris of the katamari. The main hatch opened, and a group of strange men came walking out, dressed in gray spandex with visor sunglasses and pointed hats. "Greetings, humans," said the leader in a dull, monotonal voice.

"Who the hell are you?" asked Yunseong, who had finished building the escape pod and joined Hwang and Mi Na by now.

"We are the Ecksians of Planet Ecks, a race with technology _far superior to your own_. What is this device you have placed out in the atmosphere of your puny planet?"

"Hey, we didn't bring it out here," Hwang protested. "And if you have such superior technology, why don't you know what it is already?"

"Do not question the wisdom of the Ecksians, Earth cockroach," came the answer. "We are the individuals making the queries at this present moment."

"Sorry."

"As I was previously stating, it is necessary for us to confiscate this magically adhesive ball of garbage in order for us to advance our superior technology to a level superior even to its current superiority. We suggest you evacuate the premises immediately."

Yunseong was already in the escape pod. "You don't have to tell us twice."

* * *

With a shrieked curse, Setsuka flung the remote trigger to the floor of the throne room, shattering it to a thousand pieces. "Dammit!" she screamed. "Why is the cunning plan suddenly falling apart?"

"Looks like your number's up," said Mitsurugi, pointing Shishi-Oh at the Empress. "It's up to you; you can resist and die violently, or peaceably surrender and, well, die viol---"

"---and go to jail," Siegfried finished for him. "Come on, now, is this really worth dying over?"

"A question you should've asked yourselves before you came here!" Setsuka snapped, grabbing the Improbability Drive up off its pedestal. "I've got one last subordinate clause in the cunning plan, and I'm using it right now!" With a forceful thrust, she pushed the cube into her kimono, and it melted into her body with a flash of light. "Behold my trump card!"

"Oh, what the fuck," Mitsurugi yelled, covering his eyes. "OK, look, I knew this one girl who could take a whole sixteen-ounce Coke bottle, but THAT'S just—"

_FWOOOM_. In a bursting explosion of sound and fury, the entire top of the Tower blew open, and its parts were scattered far and wide across the countryside. With the door open (indeed, with the door _gone_), Kilik and Xianghua were free to clamber over the piles of corpses they'd left in their wake and join up with M.T.F.L.B.R.H. "Hey," shouted Kilik over the maelstrom of evil energy, "did we miss anything?"

"Not really," Siegfried shouted back. "Just the first form endboss, so nothing important."

Xianghua piped up from behind Kilik. "Oh, so this is the part where she---"

Just then, Setsuka's transformation finished, and everybody gasped as she hovered over the tower. A thousand times bigger than she'd been before, Setsuka's body was now covered in every religious symbol humanly possible, because covering the villain with holy symbols is supposed to be an attempt at "irony". A single black wing protruded from where her right arm should be, eighteen Stars of David were embossed on the white wings that made up her lower body, a chain of crescents was tattooed on her human left arm, a halo floated over her set of diabolical horns, the many arms of Vishnu protruded from the tips of her lower wings, the Spear of Destiny was lodged in her cleavage, Michaelangelo's _Pieta_ had been recreated on her back by intricate sculpting of papal-blessed clay dipped in holy water, a copy of the Chthonic Analects of Y'ha-nyathlei was chained around her neck, the Buddha provided commentary from the sidelines, and Marilyn Manson titled his latest album after her in a desperate attempt to stir up controversy and actually sell some records for a change.

"Oh, SNAP!" yelled Biz Markie.

"What a monster," breathed Kilik in awe. "That's the tritest endboss I've ever seen."

"And it will also be the killing-you-est endboss you've ever seen!" roared Setsuka. "Prepare to meet your doom at the hands of the greatest beast of all, Sepher Setsuka! Someone strike up the choir!"

A lone singer took his place at the microphone in the tower's shattered ruins, cleared his throat, and began a verse.

_Estuans interius_

_Ira vehementi_

_Estuans interius_

_Ira vehem---AAAAAAARRRGGGHHHH!_

For those of you wondering why the sudden artistic license took place, Mitsurugi had turned "vehementi" into "vehemAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHH" with a well-place sugar cookie shuriken. The singer gurgled, frantically clawing at the tasty treat protruding from his throat as he collapsed to the ground.

"I'll be damned if we have to put up with that as we kick your ass," snarled the candyland ronin, unsheathing a licorice wakizashi.

"The joke's on you; I don't even HAVE an ass anymore," Sepher Setsuka cackled. "Now, taste the infernal wrath of true pain of malevolence at the ultimate…um…destined….showdown….thing."

* * *

On the starboard deck of the _Flying Nun_, which was fast approaching the tower, Cervantes, Taki, and Yoshimitsu were watching all this transpire.

"OK," mused the captain, "so it'd seem that perhaps we're going to have to make a couple changes to the plan, now that the Improbability Drive is actually inside Setsuka."

"How about if we just wing it?" offered Yoshimitsu.

Taki broke in. "That's ridiculous. We can't just risk everything on random chance and—"

"Good idea, Jesus," Cervantes agreed. "We'll leave the crew on the ship here to figure it out when they get there, while we take out the Admiral and his henchmen."

Speaking of the Admiral, their ship was just now passing over the deck of the _Engrishman_, whose cannons were still contributing to the battle with a blazing fury. CATS stood on the deck, ordering the troops and technicians about every which way, until he looked up and spotted the heroes flying over him, upon which he produced a ray gun and waved it at them. "You!" he shouted with rage. "Like the person who comes here if it faces me!"

"I guess that's our cue," said Taki, and she leapt over the side with a "HOOO!", plummeting sixtyish feet to the deck of the enemy's flagship. Cervantes was about to do the same, when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Yoshimitsu.

"Look, Cervantes," said the cyborg, "I have a confession to make."

"Oh really?"

"No, that's Olcadan's department. I wanted to tell you that…" Yoshimitsu hung his head in shame. "I'm not actually Jesus. You mistook me for someone I'm not, and I was selfish by letting you keep believing that. So…I'm sorry."

A tense moment passed, during which he expected the worst, but much to his surprise, Cervantes clapped him on the back. "Aaaahhhhrrrr," philosophized the revenant, "it's all right. Sometimes I think there's a little bit of Jesus in all of us."

"Really?" asked Yoshimitsu, stepping onto the rail and preparing to jump.

"Yeah. Everybody except Necrid. Because he really, really sucks."

With that, they dove over the railing.

* * *

CATS looked down the barrel of his ray gun at Taki, brandishing his katana with the other hand. "So," he sneered, "it came to the flagship of the enemy where you are splendid lastly! Final word?"

"No last words, CATS," answered the ninja as she produced Rekki-Maru and Mekki-Maru, "Just one question. Why'd you do it? Don't you remember when we were both MI6 agents? When we fought for queen and country, and everyone was proud of what you did? What happened at the Battle of Krispy Kreme that made you go to work for Setsuka? We thought you were dead!"

There was a contemplative pause from CATS, and he finally reached up and pulled off the cybernetic mask from his face, revealing the horrible scars he'd received in that battle. "Taki," came his voice, unencumbered by cybernetics-imposed Engrish, "do you now see the truth? Why I did what I did?"

"Uh, no," replied Taki. "You pulled off your face. That doesn't tell me much."

"OK, OK, touche. I'll explain then. **_TEN YEARS AGO…_**"

Reality swirled around them.

"No, wait!" Taki shouted. "We don't have time for flashbacks; it's almost the end of the chapter!"

"Oh. In that case, the CATS Notes version. Ten years ago, at the Battle of Krispy Kreme where we saved the United Kingdom from those diabolical pastry invaders, do you recall how I supposedly 'died'?"

"A cruller blew up in your face, as I recall."

"And you just _assumed_ I was dead? Nobody bothered to check and make sure?"

"CATS, you were buried under a mountain of sweet crème filling. Nobody could _get_ to you to check and make sure, so we assumed."

"Yes, well when you assume, IT MAKES AN ASS OUT OF U AND ME!" roared CATS, drawing up to his full height and throwing his cape out behind him. "You could've at least _tried_ to dig me out, but noooooo! I had to eat my way out of that predicament for ten minutes straight, and lay there on the slopes of Mount Meringue, bleeding, confused, and borderline diabetic! It was only by great fortune that Setsuka happened along and saved me, and recruited me to be the Admiral of her grand navy! She saw my talents for what they were and knew I was worth rescuing, unlike you people."

"Idiot!" yelled Taki. "If it only took you ten minutes, you could've just lain there for another minute or two and one of the medic teams would've picked you up!"

"That point is moot," her adversary declared, raising his mask back to his face. "It is pointless to argue further…"

Cervantes and Yoshimitsu landed on the deck on either side of Taki, swords at the ready, as CATS's mask clicked back into place, returning the robotic echo to his voice.

"…and now, all your base will be belong to _me._"

* * *

In the next chapter: It all comes to a head as we have two simultaneous fights at once. Can Setsuka and CATS be stopped, and will the plan work…or will the world as we know it come to an end? It's not the last chapter, but it's definitely Chapter Eighteen: "The Final Countdown". 


	18. It's The Final Countdown

If you don't know the disclaimer by now, then you sadden me greatly. Greatly.

I affectionately undertitle this chapter "Crispin Freeman's Revenge".

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: The Final Countdown (no, neither Europe nor the American Dragon Bryan Danielson will be appearing)

With a swaying unsteadiness, the _Flying Nun_ continued to careen towards the now-decimated Tower of Setsuka, its engines obliterated by the previous attack from the _Engrishman_. What remained of its crew looked down towards their destination, watching their allies dodge attacks from the massive beast of heresy and general silliness that was Sepher Setsuka.

"You ready, Max?" asked Cassandra.

_The painkillers had sent my mind swimming through an ocean of confusion and disorder, one that blurred and broke the lines of reality like an old-school heel in Smokey Mountain Wrestling while the referee's back was turned. But somewhere through all of it, one critical realization had cut through the darkness like the tracer on a shot from an assault rifle…_

_I was in a work of fiction._

_Funny as hell, it was the most horrible thing I could think of at the time._

Cassandra poked the taciturn, brooding man. "Hey. I said, are you ready?"

_Did it really matter, though? Was this reality any more real than the reality I'd left for it? Or was it all subjective, changing from every angle like some kind of diabolical prism---_

"Right, I'll take that as a yes."

Zasalamel, with Doom perched on his furry shoulder, pointed at the giant, hovering endboss ahead. "We should reach her in just a few minutes. Get ready."

* * *

The first blow of the battle was struck almost instantaneously, as CATS fired a shot from his ray gun. It was aimed at Cervantes, and struck him square in the chest. A large **35 **flickered over his head.

"What in tarnation!" he roared, and struck back with a swing of Acheron. However, CATS was too nimble, and quickly sidestepped the attack, resulting in a brief appearance of the word **MISS**.

Taki stepped forward and twirled her dual kunai. "Don't worry, I'll take him out." She leapt forward, slashing with Mekki-Maru, and scored a hit on the Admiral. A **29 **appeared.

As their attacks seemed to be taking less of a toll than CATS's, it appeared a different tactic from simply slugging it out would have to be applied. Yoshimitsu flexed his muscles and charged up an attack while lightning struck his katana. "Ridiculously Named MP-Eating Attack!" he shouted, because when you're writing fanfiction based off an RPG, you have to have everybody shout the name of every move they do since you don't trust your audience to be smart enough to figure out what move it is on their own.

I mean, he hit him. With the charged-up sword.

There was a flash of light. **CRITICAL! 53!**

CATS staggered, then recuperated and produced a sword of his own in the hand opposite the ray gun. "There is however no rescue for damned!" he declared. "Power of my shadow, feel the dog!"

An uncomfortable silence passed.

"….feel the dog?" asked Cervantes. "I think that's illegal."

With an exasperated sigh, CATS pulled off his mask again. He coughed and sputtered for a second, then glared at the heroes. "I said 'Feel the power of darkness, you dogs', but the Babelfish technology in this blasted mask keeps screwing up. Are we clear now?"

"Ohhhhh. I gotcha."

"Good." With that, CATS replaced his mask, and dropped his weaponry, glowing with an evil aura of energy. "Now, prepare yourself for attacking where all I am the largest!"

* * *

Another of the myriad lightning bolts from Sepher Setsuka's fingertips was deflected off the blade of Siegfried's mighty Zweihander, and shattered against the stone of the tower's floor. Next to him, Mitsurugi, Xianghua, and Kilik were fighting off the horde of soldiers that had swarmed around them to defend the Empress.

"I can't keep deflecting these shots!" he yelled, blocking another bolt. Things were starting to look desperate.

"You have to!" Mitsurugi responded. "I've got my hands full slaughtering these motherfuckers as it is. Come on, be a man!"

"But the sins of—"

"Will you _zip it_ about your damn sins?" roared the samurai, beheading a soldier with a slash of his merrily-striped peppermint katana. "You already helped beat Setsuka once, so you're forbidden from continuing to be a whiny bitch! Be a badass for a change."

"Badass?"

"Yes! Like when she jumped at you, and I was kinda mildly distracted at the time, not that I couldn't have handled it, and you smacked her out of the air despite all the angst that keeps holding you down, and the day was temporarily saved—"

"All right, all right, it happened ten minutes ago. You don't have to remind me of it."

"I'm NOT reminding you of it, I'm reminding the readers!" Mitsurugi shouted. "Now hurry the hell up and be the Siegfried you were meant to be!"

With a sigh, Siegfried turned around and brought Requiem to bear. "I guess I'm gonna have to be badass after all,' he lamented. "Alucard, where the hell are you?"

There was a _poof_ of smoke and general chaos, and a fanged man in a crimson trenchcoat with a wide-brimmed hat appeared. "You rang?" asked the vampire.

"Yeah, about the Badass Voice," Siegfried began. "Can I use it again for a while?"

Alucard shook his head derisively. "Okay, look. The last time I let you use the Badass Voice, you kept it for a month straight. Albedo got really pissed off because he was left sounding like a little bitch the whole time, and Anderson made fun of me every time I opened my mouth. It isn't exactly fair to the rest of us when you go and abuse that thing."

"Awww, come ON! The fate of the world depends on it! Just this one time?"

"All right, all right. Just make sure you give it back this time, deal?"

"Deal," Siegfried agreed. A second later, he was obscured by a burst of light as Alucard transferred the Badass Voice into his body, then disappeared.

"Whoa!" said Xianghua. "He's being attacked by Carmen Sandiego!"

"Quiet," Mitsurugi snapped. "And quit trying to lick me! I'm fighting!"

"But you taste like peppermint…"

As the light cleared away, Siegfried stood, and cleared his throat. His voice was now a familiar low rasp, accented by the _clang _of his sword coming to bear against one shoulder while the other arm pointed at Sepher Setsuka.

"All right," he said. "Your ass is mine."

* * *

Small pebbles and other such artifices lifted off the ground, hovering in a circle around CATS, as he bent his knees, raised his arms in the air, and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"What the hell?" asked Cervantes. "Is he having a seizure?"

"No, he's powering up!" Taki warned. "Look out, he's going to do his ultimate attack!"

"Now, taste Super Death Hell Annihilation Bukkake Wrath Strike!" CATS bellowed, forming a tremendous fireball over his head. He launched it forward, and the massive sphere of energy darted straight for Taki.

"Watch out!" Cervantes yelled. With barely a second to react, he performed his deadly Geo da Ray torpedo dive into the side of the fireball, ramming his swords into its mass and holding it in place. The strain was immense, but the pirate captain was a revenant, after all, and able to hold it with a tremendous exertion of energy.

Taki was amazed. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

"I know, I know," said Cervantes, "you're a ninja and I'm a pirate. But you know, I learned something today…"

Motivational music started playing, and the battle pretty much stopped as he delivered his monologue.

"It doesn't matter what somebody's occupation is," he explained, "or what kind of 'totally sweet' state of being they've devoted themselves to. When you're comrades in arms on the seven seas, nothing is worth holding grudges for. And so, I—"

"No, I mean you didn't have to do that," said Taki. "I could've dodged it."

"……Oh."

"But it _was_ sweet of you. Now, do you want some help?"

"Nah. You two run and get a transport off this ship. I can finish CATS off."

As Yoshimitsu and Taki ran off, CATS laughed at Cervantes's struggles with the energy sphere. "Trouble is engaged in your possession?" he taunted. "No longer have you chance to survive, make your time!"

"I can't really come up with a clever comeback to that because I didn't understand any of it," snapped Cervantes, "but eat THIS!" He dropped over backwards, throwing the sphere up high, high into the air until it disappeared into the sky. CATS watched it fly, half-expecting it to explode or something, but eventually looked back to Cervantes, who'd retreated to the other side of the deck.

"Ha! Your 'plan of intelligence' failure evoked!"

"That's what you think," came the reply. "What goes up, after all, must come down."

It was only with great regret that the Admiral looked back up, and when he did, he saw thirty metric tons of kinetic energy directly over his head and plunging at terminal velocity. He dropped to his knees and bellowed "_DO NOT WAAAAAAAAAAAAAANT!_" (which was, of course, the mask's translation of "_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_) just as it landed.

_**KABOOM.

* * *

**_

Siegfried's mad fighting skills were visible from the deck of the _Flying Nun_, which was now about twenty feet over the tower's front balcony. Talim climbed onto Zasalamel's back, hugging his neck tightly to stay on through the ensuing ride, and the group disembarked onto the tower.

"All right," commanded Raphael as he and Cassandra prepared to assault the oncoming group of soldiers. "Zasalamel, run for it. Max, you know what to do."

_I supposed I had to do what was required of me, after all. "Fate of the universe" and so on. Ehhh, who would it hurt…_

_My nine-millimeters dropped into my hands as I dove through the air, there on the top of that monolith of sin, squeezing off shot after shot into the crowd of lemming soldiers swarming around us. They dropped like flies, and time seemed to slow down, oozing and melting like a bag of potato chips in the microwave, as it always did when I leapt sideways. Sometimes, I wondered why this was, but it's usually best not to question the freebies life hands you._

With time slowing down, Zasalamel (who could still run in normal time because come on, man, he's a _panda_) dashed across the tower floor, just as Siegfried was in the middle of a slow-motion uppercut at Sepher Setsuka. He leapt onto Mitsurugi's shoulders (prompting a deep, slow-mo, Zordon-like shout of "Goddamn panda!"), jumped off onto the upraised end of Siegfried's sword, and made a mighty _LEAP_….

…coming up short as he reached his apex about halfway to Setsuka. As they shifted back into slow motion, Zasalamel was greatly dismayed. "I can't make it all the way to her!" he yelled to Talim. "Can you draw the Improbability Drive out from here?"

Talim attempted to use her Soul Edge abilities to suck out the Drive, but it was no good. "We're too far away!" she responded. "Get closer!"

"I can't! She'll vaporize us!"

It was at this point that the squirrel, mounted atop Zasalamel's head, saw at last the face of his dreaded enemy up close. Here was the woman whom, with her idiotic aspirations to power, had changed him into this pathetic state of being, scattered him over the earth—stolen his supervillain tricks, even! He would not stand it!

Time reverted back to normal just in time for Setsuka to look up and see a squirrel diving for her face at supersonic levels of speed. "What the—"

"_NO ONE STEALS FROM VIKTOR VON DOOM!_" screamed Doom, latching onto Setsuka's forehead and scrabbling at her with his squirrely paws unmercifully. For those of you who have been mauled by a squirrel in the past, you know this is serious business, and so Setsuka thrashed and bellowed, trying to pry the furious mammalian dictator off her head. Her attention was distracted, and as Zasalamel and Talim got to their feet, they saw their chance.

"Now!" Zasalamel yelled frantically. "Go get it now!"

Not wasting an instant, Talim dashed up to the distracted Setsuka and focused the power of the Soul Edge fragments absorbed within her to draw in any souls in the area. As she concentrated, the souls within the Improbability Drive were immediately drawn to her, forcing the cube out of Sepher Setsuka…and into Talim.

* * *

As Cervantes de Leon was hurled about seventy feet into the sky by the explosion of the _Engrishman_, he was fairly sure he was about to die. Again. Ah well, he'd lived a fine, admirable unlife as a salty dog of the seven seas, terrorizing and plundering everything in his path. It was with pride that he'd go to…

Suddenly, he noticed Yoshimitsu, with all the glory of an exploding sky behind him, reaching down from the heavens. His eyes went wide with enthused awe, and he took the cyborg's hand, knowing he was being pulled up to the Pearly Gates…

"Keep the fighter steady!" yelled Yoshimitsu. "I got him!" He pulled Cervantes up into the plane, along with himself and Taki, who was flying, then smacked the pirate across the face a couple times. "Cervantes! Are you all right? Breathe, dammit, don't go into shock—"

"JESUS!" shouted Cervantes, hugging him. "I knew it was you all along, you scurvy dog! You didn't have to be all modest and hide it from me!"

Yoshimitsu felt very, very chagrined. He wondered whether it wouldn't have been better to just fly the plane under Cervantes and let him land in it.

* * *

The immediate repercussions took everybody's attention off Talim, as Setsuka shrieked in horror and dropped out of the sky back onto the tower, almost immediately reverting into her former self. The soldiers collapsed into unconsciousness, free of the psychic puppet strings that had held them in place, and so it was that Kilik, Xianghua, Max Payne, Mitsurugi, Raphael, Cassandra, and Zasalamel hurried over to Talim, Siegfried, Doom, and the dazed Setsuka. "What happened?" asked Kilik. "Are you all right?"

"I'm OK, I think," answered the girl, a bit woozy. "I absorbed the Improbability Drive."

"So what now?" Zasalamel mused, rubbing the fur on his head with a paw. "If it's inside her, we can't use it to change everyone back to normal, including myself---"

_WHOOSH_. He was a human again, scythe, cloak, and all. Zasalamel stared at himself in amazement, then looked back at Talim. "W-what? How'd you do that?"

"I dunno," she replied with a puzzled look. "I just wanted you to be human again, and…you were."

"Interesting." He stroked his chin now instead of his fur, but the thought process remained the same. "Then, if you've absorbed the Improbability Drive, you can warp reality simply by thinking…"

"Excellent!" declared Doctor Doom, standing up on his haunches. "Change me to normal, human, and send me back immediately!"

"Yes, I think the squirrel deserves what he wants for saving us all," agreed Zasalamel.

"_DO **NOT **CALL ME---"_

_WHOOSH. _Doom spent a surprised minute looking around at the world through his mask. "Oh," he exclaimed. "It seems that I am human once more…"

"Holy crap," Xianghua whispered to Kilik, "he's made of metal."

"Now, return me to Latveria, where my schemes of global domination shall---"

_WHOOSH_. Just like that, he was gone.

"Wow," Cassandra said in awe, staring at Talim. "That's awesome. Do you want to be changed back, Mitsurugi?"

The candyland ronin sheathed his blades, and shook his head. "Nah," he replied. "This is kinda cool, and Siegfried always did say I needed a gimmick."

"And a cool gimmick it is," added Siegfried.

"Whoa. You sound pretty badass."

"Thank you."

"So I guess that just leaves you, Max," said Talim. "How about it?"

_I thought about it for a second. Now was my chance to return to New York City, to deal with any of the unfinished business I'd left there, with the trail of bodies we'd left behind, with the police that would no doubt be after my head for Vlad and Woden's deaths..._

_No. I shook my head. "Nah, I think I'll be fine."_

_The kid looked at me, eyes burning with concern like Rome as Nero fiddled. "You sure? I mean, this world's probably nothing like yours…" She was adorable when she was concerned._

_I turned, and started walking off into the sunset. "I'm sure. Trust me, even if this world isn't anything like mine… I think I'll get used to it."_

"Why don't you fix the engines on the airship, as well?" suggested Cassandra. "That way, Cervantes and his crew can get moving as well."

With a wave of her hand, Talim restored the _Flying Nun_ to working order, making the engines roar to life. She turned to look at the downed Setsuka. "What about her? Is she dead?"

"It looks like she's in a coma," began Zasalamel as he leaned over her, right before Setsuka sat bolt upright and looked at him with a delightful ASCII-ish grin and a squeal of "ZASSY-CHAN!"

"OH SHIT—" was all he got out before she glomped him over. "Ohayo mitsubishi wa, Zassy-Chan! I missed you!"

"That is IT," screamed Zasalamel, scrambling out from under his usurper and running from the hills. "You may think you've seen the last of me, but I'll be back with another cunning plan!"

"Wait up, Zassy-chan! BUSHIIIIIDO BLAAAADE DEEEEEESU!" shrilled the now-delirious Setsuka, chasing after him.

* * *

On the bridge of the _Flying Nun, _Cervantes and Taki were watching the sun set in the west. Yoshimitsu was on the other side of the deck, performing his ritual post-battle meditation. "Well, we saved the world," began Cervantes.

"Indeed we did," Taki agreed. "And to think, just two chapters ago, we couldn't even stand the sight of each other." She pulled off her armored face mask and dropped it on the deck next to her.

The pirate captain chuckled, and conceded that "To tell the truth, you're actually pretty cool."

"Hmmm….yeah, you too."

There was a pause, as they went back to watching the sunset.

After a while, Cervantes ventured, "So…"

"Hmm?"

"After we take Jesus to Mount Fuji in this thing, you wanna….well….pillage some sea ports? Beat on some scurvy knaves? Or, um, flip out and kill people, since you're a ninja?"

Taki smiled. "How about if we settle for getting a drink?"

He put an arm around her shoulder. "Only if it's rum."

"Tea."

"Oh, fine. Goddamned lollygagging wenches can't handle the hard stuff."

_Smack._

"Ahhhhrrrr! I was only joshin' you, woman!"

"Just making sure."

**The End**


	19. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

_After returning to Earth from the katamari, Hwang Seong-Gyeong (who'd finally gotten his name changed to look Korean, as a reward from the Coast Guard for helping save the world), Hong Yunseong, and Seong Mi Na took up jobs as the crew for the _Flying Nun._ Yunseong finally got to play his game of Starcraft against Mi Na. As expected, he lost, and I'll leave what he had to do to your imagination. Suffice to say it was degrading._

_Cassandra Alexandra returned to the Spanish Inquisition, but called off the campaign against the vampire Raphael Sorel, having come to view him as a friend over the last few days. Occasionally, she would visit him and Amy, and let me tell you, the tabloids were on FIRE whenever that happened._

_Kratos did not get to rape Sophitia Alexandra. He did, however, slap the shit out of Rothion, burn down Athens, and punt a baby._

_Max Payne took up wandering over Europe, looking for a place to settle down, until he took up a job working as an enforcer for King Voldo I. He was almost dishonorably discharged when his drug test came up positive for lots of painkillers, but King Voldo wisely decreed that "SSS SSSSSSSS SS SS SSSSS", and Max was allowed to keep his job. He was eventually sent to fight the cleaning company commandos of Ye Olde Housekeepinge Incorporated…e._

_The aforementioned King of Italy proved to be a wise and capable sovereign, and a real tiger in the sack as always, much to the delight of the eternally-horny Queen Isabella, who later claimed his tongue was "like an alchemistic tornado in a sea of mercury"._

_Doctor Doom, back on Earth-616, hatched another scheme to destroy Reed Richards and his friends and take over the planet, but it was foiled when the Thing emptied a freighter truck full of chestnuts onto him, immobilizing him long enough for him to be taken to jail. All the way there, he was heard cursing "If only I were still a squirrel, I could've eaten my way out," which led most of the media to believe that Doom had finally lost his mind. Magneto was pleased, as this made him the #1 supervillain._

_Talim returned to the Phillipines, simply by wishing she could, and took up residence in her hut once more, acting as a healer and general catch-all plot device for the people of her village._

_Kilik and Xianghua entered the Marvel Vs. Capcom tag team championships, despite both being Namco characters, and beat Cyclops and Ryu easily in the finals because Shotokan characters all suck. M. Bison offered them a chance to be his new Shadowloo enforcers, but they turned him down, stating that "Winners Don't Use Drugs."_

_Olcadan started a talk show on Fox News called "The O RLY Factor." Rock was his first guest, on the subject of sword control and whether someone should have to pass a background check to buy a sword._

_Zasalamel and Setsuka disappeared into the hills and have not been seen since, but the cloaked enigma's resilience is not something to be underestimated, and many think he is coming up with another cunning plan as we speak._

_Cervantes decided to work for the government with Taki, seeing as how being a secret agent, like being a pirate or ninja, was another popular career choice of elementary schoolers. The two moved into the Valentine Mansion (which Ivy had given them, seeing as how she no longer needed it), and are currently quite happy._

_After getting home to Mount Fuji, Yoshimitsu deposited the stolen gold in his group's treasury, where it was eventually distributed to the poor. Over the next two weeks, he wrote a best-selling book (two parts novel, one part survival guide) based off his experiences with Cervantes, with whom he kept in touch, and the others._

_The book was called The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Stage Of History._

_As for what happened to Ostrheinsburg…_

* * *

"WORMS! DIE! SQUIIIIIRM!" screamed Astaroth, banging on the witness stand.

"Uh, perhaps we can have that stricken from the record, Your Honor," asked Nightmare.

"Record?" asked Judge Joker. "Someone's supposed to be writing this down?

_**The courtroom is the greatest battlefield of all**_

Zasalamel tapped the end of his scythe against the floor. "Work, you maggots!" he ordered. "Soon, my cunning plan will be at its apex! And I shall use this glorious machine to drop gears from the clock tower on the entire world, unless they pay me---"

"How much, Zassy-chan?" asked Setsuka.

"ONE HUNDRED _BILLION _DOLLARS."

"Exalted one," began a lackey, "the dollar system hasn't been invented yet."

"DO NOT QUESTION THE CUNNING PLAN!"

_**And he's the one who's holding the B.F.G.**_

"It's gonna be rough," said Mitsurugi, looking over the document that contained their mission orders. "You sure you can handle this?"

"Look," Siegfried answered. "We could handle Setsuka, and you don't think I can handle Shadowloo? Come on now, it'll be easy."

"And maybe even fun," agreed Boba Fett.

"How the hell did _you _get in here?"

_**From the author of The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Stage of History**_

"Captain! We're getting hailed!"

Disregarding Hwang's alarmed shout, Cervantes hit the button to open a comm channel. "You lily-livered yellow-bellied lollygagging landlubbers!" he roared. "Why in St. Elmo's Fire did you fire on us for?"

On the screen, KOS-MOS pushed back her goggles. "Lower your shields and power down your weapons. We will add your biological and technological likeness to ours."

He stared in horror as the android's crimson eyes narrowed.

"Resistance is futile. _You **will **be assimilated."_

_**Comes a tale of law and order, where justice is served**_

The car squealed to a halt.

"Aw, man," yelled Fox, "I shot Slippy in the face!"

"WHY THE BARREL ROLL'D YOU DO THAT?" Peppy roared.

"Well, I didn't mean to do it, it just happened!"

**_Served medium well, that is, with a nice side of baked potatoes and a roll_**

"All right, all right, court is now in session. The honorable Judge Joker, with Bailiff Quinn, presiding; the case is _Ostrheinsburg v. the state of Germany_. Defending attorney is…" and here she looked over to Ostrheinsburg's table, "…who are you again?"

The attorney Nightmare had hired stood, adjusted the lapels of his suit, and stepped forward, causing the light to play havoc with the pattern of his brightly-colored scales.

"My name, madam, is…"

_**AEON CALCOS  
**__**ATTORNEY AT LAW**_

"Rotting christ, man," said Simon, "you demolished the entire courtroom."

Garm blew the smoke off his railgun. "They ain't takin' me alive, baby. I've done my time, and nobody's---"

"They were armed with billy clubs! You didn't have to use a fucking rail driver; that's just overkill."

"No such thing as overkill where I come from."

_**Coming Eventually**_


End file.
